


Not All Pain Heals

by AnchoredTether



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: After Season 3B, Angst, BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, F/M, Fox Stiles, Foxes, Gore, Kitsune, RIP Allison Argent, Romance, Stiles and Kira get a bromance, Thriller, Werefox Stiles, Werefoxes, descriptive scenes of injuries, kind of follows season 4's plot, those were spoilers but it's ok you find out in the third chapter, turned!stiles, were!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:44:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 70,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnchoredTether/pseuds/AnchoredTether
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"I think I understand now, what Allison meant when she said it didn't hurt. There comes a point where it doesn't matter how much it hurts, because your resolve is stronger than your suffering. You could never take away her pain, Scott, because she loved you more than the pain hated her. Not all pain heals, but that's alright. Sometimes the pain is worth it."</i><br/> </p><p>After the Nogitsune was defeated, everyone thought their problems were gone and they could finally begin to heal from the death of Allison and Aiden, and the destruction left in the wake of Stiles’ possession. Chaos remains in Beacon Hills when the morning after, Stiles finds a mirror bite mark on his arm, and it’s healing.</p><p>『 read on :: <a href="http://anchoredtether.deviantart.com">deviantart</a> ┇ <a href="http://anchoredtether.tumblr.com/tagged/not%20all%20pain%20heals">tumblr</a> 』</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Replication

  
  


When Scott said  _"we’re all ok"_ , Stiles knew the words were forced in the shroud of a half-truth. Allison was gone. Aiden was gone. And almost everyone died because of him. Malia was right when she said guilt made one feel sick to their stomach, since Stiles couldn’t find an appetite to ever eat again. Nothing would ever be the same, not without Allison, not with the hole in the heart of everyone within the pack. Even with the Nogitsune gone, that didn’t eradicate the nightmares permanently stained in Stiles’ mind. When he slept, he saw his hands stained with the blood of his loved ones. He saw the people he killed like a broken record. Their screams only increased in volume every night as he slipped into a realm of horror.

"ALLISON!!"

He woke up screaming as the sound of Lydia’s death sentence rang through his ears. His father came in and held him in a tight embrace with words of reassurance as Stiles calmed down, tears falling down his cheeks. “It’s all my fault…Scott’s first love, Lydia’s best friend,-“

"It’s not your fault, son." The sheriff said softly but firmly. "If anyone else were possessed by a demon fox spirit the same thing would have happened. You played no part in her death. The only one at fault is the Nogitsune, or whatever it’s called."

"No, that’s correct terminology." Stiles sniffed, his exhales coming out shaky. "I just _wonder_ , if I was faster, if I could have better warned Scott, or if I was stronger and fought off the Nogitsune myself, maybe if I had more  _willpower_ , things…. things would have been different.”

"There’s nothing more you could have done. You’re only a human up against the supernatural…and you’ve done an exceptional job at keeping yourself and your friends _alive_. I’m certain they’re just as grateful for you as I am.” 

"No matter what I do, I can’t help but feel— _AHH!_ " Stiles jerked away from his father when a pain shot through his shoulder. He pulled up his right sleeve to tear it off of dried blood and reveal a gnarly wound carving out the flesh of his bicep. He gasped, looking over at his father in awe.

"How did you get that??" John stood up from the bed and turned on the light so he could better inspect the injury.

Now that Stiles could properly see, the shape of the wound confirmed his suspicions. “Shit…shitshitshit-“

"What- is it infected? Let me go get a first aid kit-"

"No! Dad, that…that won’t be necessary." He could feel his heart pounding anxiously, and he almost forgot how to breathe. Stiles was oddly  _still_ , his eyes lost in a thousand yard stare.

"…Stiles? What is it? What’s wrong?" 

He looked up at his father and released a painful sigh, his lips wavering as he tried to speak. “I-I must have not noticed it - because I was hurting  _everywhere._ …” He took a sharp inhale, trying to figure out the best way to present the situation. His throat came out dry and the room was spinning threateningly fast. He had no idea how his dad would handle the news, let alone himself.

John sat back down on the bed close to his son. He gently held his right hand for support. “Stiles, talk to me.”

He sighed, the sound coming out defeated. He looked over at his dad, his warm eyes on the verge of shattering. “It’s…it’s a bite mark, dad. It’s…the same place Scott bit the Nogitsune.” He exhaled as if someone just punched him in the chest, the realization hitting him harder when he said it aloud. “And I can’t tell if it’s healing or if it’s killing me…because I’m still drained from…recent events…”

John’s face hardened and he almost looked angry, but Stiles knew he was trying not to cry. He saw the sorrow in the depths of his father’s eyes. He was being so strong for him, and Stiles felt his heartstrings painfully tug at how hard his dad tried to make his life better. Stiles wasn’t sure he could handle his father crying at this point in time. It would only break him.

"Okay." Was all John said. "Okay." He nodded curtly, then held both of his son’s hands as he looked him in the eyes. "Listen, we’re going to pull through this.  _You’re_  going to pull through this. If you become a werewolf, you’ve got Scott and Derek to help you through that, and if not, we’ll figure something out. There’s got to be some…supernatural cure to keep you from dying.”

Stiles barked a short laugh. His dad was so optimistic at times. “I don’t think there’s any supernatural cure for someone dying from a werewolf bite, dad. Maybe if you pump my veins with wolfsbane.” He shook his head. “No, it’s alright. I prepared myself for this to happen. I wasn’t sure if killing the Nogitsune would kill me too, and I wasn’t sure if biting the Nogitsune would change me too. Either way….I….I……” His words fell off into oblivion as he found himself staring into an immense darkness, his eyes vacant.

John pulled him into a hug, careful not to apply pressure to his wound, as silent tears fell down Stiles’ face as only one thought consumed his mind.

_If the Nogitsune’s presence was killing me, I’m certain this will kill me too._

 

 


	2. Confirmation

When Stiles awoke at a less ungodly hour, his wound still the same, John helped him clean and bandage it up, _"in case werewolf bites_  can  _get infected”_ , he had said. Stiles sat down and began eating a large bowl of cereal as his dad cooked eggs over the stove. 

"Do you…feel any different?" John asked, looking over his shoulder.

Stiles shrugged. “Nah. Just really tired. I think it’ll take me a week of sleeping to restore my energy. Being possessed  _really_  drains you, apparently. Definitely wouldn’t recommend it.”

"Have you called Scott?"

Stiles froze, a spoonful of cereal stuck in his mouth as he stared at his dad like a deer in the headlights. After a moment he pulled the spoon out and chewed, swallowing hard. His voice came out strained. “No… and I don’t want to - yet.”

"Isn’t this something with a time limit?" John turned around, his brows creased in worry.

"Time limit…" He furrowed his brows in slight confusion before it clicked in his mind. "Oh, right. Yeah, but I - or, rather, the  _Nogitsune_  - was bit only a couple hours ago. It takes over twenty-four hours for anything to start happening. I think.” His expression deepened in concentration for a moment. “I’m pretty sure when Scott was bit his wound didn’t heal till the next day, and he didn’t start showing any signs till a while after that.”

"Why don’t you want to tell him?"

“ _Because._ …” Stiles held an expression of pleading, his eyes full of guilt. “Allison’s funeral is tomorrow. Scott’s got enough on his mind as it is.” Chris Argent decided to have a quick and small funeral, because if too many Argents were invited there would be more hunters in Beacon Hills to cause more unnecessary contention, and place Scott’s pack in a situation of harm. Chris and Allison were the only Argents to change their code, and if more Argents came to Beacon Hills knowing that the supernatural killed Allison, they would start looking to eradicate the supernatural within Beacon Hills as a form of retribution. Chris thought his daughter would have wanted only her close loved ones there anyway, so it was going to be held tomorrow with less than twenty people in attendance. Stiles figured he could wait it out one day. “I’ll be fine, dad. If complications arise…” He flailed a hand gesture. “I’ll let him know that his best friend is either  _dying_  or…changing.” 

The silence stretched between the Stilinskis, the only sound in the kitchen the faint sizzling of eggs or the obnoxiously loud chewing from Stiles’ crunchy cereal. John finally spoke, clearing his throat before he did so. “Are you…going anywhere today?”

Stiles scoffed. “I’m not going to school if that’s what you mean.”

"No, I mean…to see Scott, or Lydia, or something."

He shook his head. “No I think I’ll just stay here…and rest. I don’t think anyone wants to see the face that killed Allison for a while anyhow.” 

John was going to say something supportive, his lips parting as if he were to speak, but nothing came. Although it wasn’t Stiles’ fault, he couldn’t argue against the fact that the Nogitsune had his son’s face. “Well I still have to go to work. Just make sure you call me if anything happens with your…injury.”

Stiles nodded as he finished the dregs of his breakfast.

 

 

»»««

 

 

The remainder of the day was uneventful, since Stiles slept for most of it. He took some Nyquil so he could avoid the nightmares and sleep like a rock. When he woke up it was five in the evening, his phone littered with a dozen unread messages. Before reading through all the texts and missed phone calls, he sat up and poked the wrappings on his right bicep. It stung a little, but more like the pain of a cut instead of a deep bite mark. He hoped that was a good sign, and by good sign he meant  _'not dying.'_  The whole turning-into-a-werewolf bit wasn’t exactly a good sign either, but it was better than the alternative. 

_1 missed call from Scotty._  
_2 missed calls from Dad._

He flipped to his text messages to find similar sentiments.

_Dad: Hey, how you holding up?_  
_Dad: Call me when you can._

_Scotty: How are you doing?_  
_Scotty: Are you feeling any better?_  
_Scotty: Stiles, are you ok?_  
_Scotty: It wasn’t your fault._  
_Scotty: I’m coming over._  
_Scotty: Sorry you were sleeping._  
_Scotty: Call me when you wake up._

Stiles chuckled at the idea of Scott breaking into his room to check on him. He was so thorough at times. He figured since Scott had seen he was alright, he called his father first, letting him know that he was fine and his injury was supposedly healing. He still wasn’t quite sure on that, but it definitely wasn’t hurting as bad as it was earlier. He hoped Scott didn’t see the bandages. He was fairly certain he had his covers up to his neck, but then he remembered Scott could smell blood. He probably knew.

With a sigh, Stiles dialed Scott’s number and put him on speaker. He picked up only after a few rings, his voice almost frantic. “Stiles?”

"Yeah, I’m fine. I’m - just tired. Still exhausted from…everything." He paused. "How are you…handling things?"

Scott was quiet on his end for a moment. “I’m…it’s  _hard_ … I still can’t believe she’s…” Scott was quiet, but Stiles could hear sniffling. “But I’ll be ok. We’ll all be ok. Allison would have wanted us to be strong for her sake….be our own anchors, you know?” He could hear Scott smiling through the strained pain in his voice.

"Yeah…" Stiles smiled, but his eyes were sad. "You know, she’s proud of all you’ve accomplished. We were able to finish the fight she died fighting for." He was about to say something else to help soothe Scott’s troubled mind, but instead the words blurted out in a rush of an entirely different sentiment. "I’m sorry Scott, I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough, I’m sorry I couldn’t do  _anything_  to save  _anyone_ …” He gasped for air, the tears hot on his face as his voice trembled. “If only I was strong enough to kill the Nogitsune before it killed Allison, while I still had the chance when it was still in me, if I took that sword sooner, I could have  _saved_  her. I could have saved Aiden. I could have prevented so much pain and death in Beacon Hills, I could have - I  _should_  have done  _something_ , I  _should_  have -“

Stiles yelped when Scott came in through the window, his face crestfallen. Stiles hated for Scott to see him like this, but Scott had tears flowing from the corners of his eyes as well. The two brothers stood still, staring at each other’s misery before Scott spoke quietly. “It’s not your fault, Stiles. I don’t blame you for anyone’s death, especially not Allison’s.” He got choked up when he said her name, but he pushed forward, walking closer to his friend till he was crouched at the side of his bed. His eyes strained through the tears, his lips bent into a painful frown.

"Allison….Allison fought…she was a warrior till the very end. She died exactly how she wanted to. She told me so." His eyes glazed over in anguished reminiscence, and he smiled painfully. "If it were you instead…if you sacrificed yourself…I would live knowing I couldn’t save you, because I promised you I would do something. Allison once said…that there was no such thing as fate." He breathed, trying to compose himself. "And I think it was fate that she would die protecting those who could not protect themselves….it’s what she would have wanted…" Scott reached out a hand and held Stiles’ knee. "…Stiles… what I’m trying to say is…. I’m so glad you’re still here with me."

Stiles smiled achingly, his voice cracking. “You’ve still got me.”

 

 

»»««

 

 

Luckily Scott didn’t seem to notice the bandages poking out from underneath his sleeve, or any smell of blood. Stiles reckoned Scott was too overwhelmed with all the emotions, and Stiles was certain he reeked of guilt and sorrow before he reeked of blood. After a heartfelt hug, Scott left to get home in time for dinner. After wiping the tears from his eyes and washing his face, Stiles removed the bandages to see the progress of his injury and gasped when there was  _nothing_  there. He fervently scrubbed the blood away from his arm to find his skin was flawless, no sign of a scar. There wasn’t even a residual bruise to prove any sign of natural healing - it was as if the bite were never there. 

Stiles knew that could only mean one thing.

He blinked rapidly a few times, narrowing his eyes at the mirror as if he could command his eyes to start glowing. Nothing happened. He made biting motions with his teeth to see if any fangs would spring out, but his chompers looked completely natural. He wondered when the werewolf-y things would start making an appearance.

_Probably at a really inconvenient time._

 

 

»»««

 

 

"It healed." Stiles said abruptly when his dad entered through the front door. John froze as he stared at his son, while Stiles lifted his sleeve to prove it’s nonexistence. "See? It’s as if it was never there."

He was expecting his dad to freak out about him becoming a werewolf, or distraught over what he would have to do to keep anyone from seeing him with fangs, or confused about what to do during full moons. Stiles wasn’t expecting it when his dad rushed over and embraced him in a tight hug. It was so constricting Stiles couldn’t even wrap his arms around him. 

"I was so worried…I was so worried I was going to lose you." 

Stiles closed his eyes and released an exhale slowly through his nose. He could hear the tears in his father’s voice, and he knew his father couldn’t bear to lose his wife  _and_ his son. “I’m going to be alright. So long as I don’t accidentally eat anyone.” He laughed softly, but it didn’t ring with any humor. 

 

 

»»««

 

 

Stiles was never one for patience. He couldn’t just sit still and  _wait_. Was he going to suddenly get an urge to eat raw meat? Was he going to suddenly hear the movie the neighbors were watching? Was he going to suddenly be able to smell exactly how crucial it was he attended to his dirty laundry hamper? For the most part he felt normal, great even. He felt well rested and the heavy exhaustion from earlier was waning. He certainly wasn’t dying, otherwise he would be feeling a lot worse at this point. But he had no idea when the wolf would start kicking in, if it would grow gradually, or if it would suddenly start raking at his ribs, desperate to get out. He wished he had paid closer attention to the details of Scott’s transformation. Then again, Scott didn’t exactly share all the minute details of his lycanthropy because at that time, neither of them knew werewolves existed. Not until Scott had claws and fangs. Stiles had no idea what to expect. 

As he lied in bed, waiting for sleep to come, he was overwhelmed with questions about what tomorrow would deliver. Eventually several hours into the night he collapsed from exhaustion, drifting into a sleep ridden with nightmares of eating his friends. It wasn’t until he awoke that the nightmare truly began.

 

 


	3. The Funeral

After ten minutes of convincing his dad that he was fine enough to go to the funeral (for more concerns than one), Stiles was ready to face the inevitable, adorned completely in black. It was more depressing than necessary when he saw his father walk out in a matching black suit, and the gravity of the situation hit his heart like a pile of bricks. The last time the Stilinskis both dressed like this was at Claudia’s funeral eight years ago. 

The car ride was silent. Stiles was afraid that if he tried to speak, he would break down into a mess of misery. He kept biting his lower lip to keep the tears from flowing, to keep himself together. When they walked over to the small clearing set up at the cemetery, Stiles inhaled sharply, his knees feeling weak and his shoulders trembling. 

"You ok?" John asked, turning his head in concern.

"I’m -" Stiles breathed heavily, the scent so  _overwhelming_  he thought he was drowning. The sorrow had a bitter taste in his mouth, leaving his lungs heavy and his tongue tense. He wanted to throw up or run away from the smell, but he couldn’t. Not now. He swallowed hard and looked at his dad. “I’m fine.” 

John didn’t seem convinced. He grabbed his son’s shoulders and faced him head on. Stiles was all over the place, his head whipping in different directions, his breathing completely irregular, his hands shaking. John shook him slightly so he would focus on him. “Stiles - don’t overdo it. If you need to go home you give me the word and we’ll go. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

"I’ll be fine, dad."

"You don’t  _look_  fine. You look like…you’re not having a panic attack are you?”

"If werewolves can have panic attacks…then probably." Stiles rolled his eyes before looking at his dad with a stern commitment in his eyes. "Allison would want me to be here." He said firmly, getting a better control over his trembling body. "Scott needs me to be here. I have to do this."

John sighed softly. “Alright. Just…be cautious, alright?”

Stiles knew he was referring to the werewolf part, to which he nodded. “If anything happens, I’ll run into the forest right there. Scott will figure something’s up and find me. I’ll try to make it look like I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Which won’t be hard.”

 

 

»»««

 

 

He wanted to sit in the back, but Scott was in the  _second_  row, leaning over in his seat with his face buried in his hands. Isaac sat next to him, sitting up straight and rigid, his watery eyes staring idly at the casket on display. Allison was in a beautiful black dress, her hands holding white lilies, her right hand still wearing her glove for archery. Thinking about Allison was sour on his mind, but  _seeing_  her was a different poison entirely. He never actually saw the sword go through her body, but for some reason he felt like he should have. Stiles tried to get himself under control, but the sounds and the scents continued to engulf him in powerful waves. 

He sat next to Scott and wrapped his arm around his shoulders to let him know he was there. Stiles looked over at Isaac and gave him a weak smile, to which he painfully returned. After a few minutes, Scott sat up, wiped his eyes, and looked over at Stiles. Scott’s irises were glowing red, his eyebrows creased in sadness. “Are my eyes all bloodshot?”

"Well -  _yes_ …” Stiles leaned in closer and hissed in a whisper, “but your eyes are  _glowing_ , Scott!” 

Scott huffed. “I’ve been trying to keep it under control. It’s…difficult.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Stiles with a look of confusion. “And what’s going on with you? You smell… _off._ ”

Stiles parted his lips, gaping at some kind of lame cover-up such as the excuse of new cologne, but Lydia cut off any kind of answer when she sat down next to him, causing him to jump, complete with a yelp that sounded like a dog getting run over. Apparently the newfound senses would take some getting used to.

Lydia was in a gorgeous floor length, lacy black dress, her hair elegantly swirled up into a bun. She wore no makeup and by the look of her eyes, she had been crying before arriving as well. She gave Stiles a look he couldn’t describe. There was so much emotion welled up inside Lydia that Stiles had to refuse the urge to cough. Her eyes were blazing flames of grief, anger, and  _fear_. Stiles saw that deep, underlying fear in her eyes as she looked at him.  _She still sees the Nogitsune when she looks at me._  Stiles felt incredibly sick to his stomach.

“ _What?_ " Lydia may have said it a little too harshly, but Stiles knew she didn’t mean it.

"I’m just… jumpy, is all." Stiles offered. Her eyes were fierce, but she didn’t question it any further. She blinked slowly, her mouth turning into a frown as she sat up straight, her shoulders pulled back, and stared out at the coffin before them. 

A noise slammed into his skull, causing Stiles’ whole body to twitch as his head turned towards the direction of the sound. It came from a car door slamming all the way across the cemetery. His eyes widened in fear. He wasn’t controlling this at all - it was completely controlling  _him_.

“ _Stiles_ , are you sure you’re alright?” Scott’s voice was concerned, his alpha eyes gone now. “Are you having a panic attack?” 

Stiles slowly turned to look at his friend, his expression hesitant. From all the scents Stiles was picking up, he figured Scott wouldn’t be able to figure out his secret. Stiles knew it wasn’t a panic attack, but it might turn into such if the lycanthropy got any worse. “I don’t know.” He said plainly. Scott wouldn’t be able to tell he was lying, because in a sense, Stiles wasn’t lying at all. He wasn’t sure what was going on. “Whatever you’re doing now, keep doing it. It’s keeping your eyes brown.”

Scott nodded. They sat in silence till the funeral officially started.

 

 

»»««

 

 

Chris got up to give a farewell speech, but Stiles couldn’t focus on his words at all. The sound of the soft chatter of John and Melissa, an Argent relative removing gum from the packaging, a school teacher tapping his foot against a chair leg, a car driving down the road listening to Avicii, and a twig snapping in the forest behind them kept causing him to flinch. The smells were causing him to breathe heavy, all the sharp emotions and salty tears along with the aroma of grass and freshly ironed suits and flowery perfumes and a dozen other smells he couldn’t put a label on. Stiles felt extremely hot, so he took off his suit jacket, but the heat was under his skin like red hot needles. He groaned in pain, his head spinning, his breaths coming in labored. 

Lydia snapped her hand onto his bouncing leg to keep it still, then slowly turned her gaze to look at her friend. Her voice was strong and forceful but sympathetic all at the same time. “Stiles, be still. Take a deep breath and hold it. Then let it out slowly.” 

Stiles looked over at Lydia, realizing she was helping him get through a panic attack, but when he looked at her, Lydia’s eyes widened in fear and she looked like she was just shot with an arrow. His face deflated when he realized she was probably still seeing the Nogitsune instead of Stiles. When would he ever be able to look at her again without her seeing a monster? He couldn’t exactly blame her, but the expression still hurt inside his chest. When Lydia spoke, her words were sharp with panic, bringing Stiles back to full attention.

“ _Stiles…_ " She gasped for breath as she stared at his eyes like she had never seen them before. "Your  _eyes_ …”

Lydia didn’t know what to say and neither did Stiles. He stared at her as it clicked within in his mind -  _they must be glowing_. With a few gasps for air, Stiles bolted up from his seat, casually leaving the row of chairs and walking towards the forest with a little too much haste, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Once he was far enough from the funeral set up, he sprinted, running as fast as he could. Which, he realized after a few moments, was incredibly fast. Faster than he had ever gone. The fear and adrenaline pounding in his heart escalated till he was sure it would explode. He halted to a stop, leaned up against a tree, and slowly sunk down to the ground as he panted for breath. His whole body shook, his insides churning in displeasure. He could hear Scott’s running footsteps and the sound of Lydia’s slower high heels. He didn’t want them to see him like this, but he knew he had no choice in the matter because his friends were too stubborn. 

He knew they would have to find out eventually, but he wished he could have at least lasted through the funeral of his friend. “I’m sorry Allison…I’m sorry I couldn’t be as strong as you…”

 

 


	4. Deathly Reckoning

Scott slowed to a stop when he was twenty feet away from Stiles, his muscles tense. Stiles could smell the anxiety on him. Lydia must have told him before he ran out after him. He was so still it made Stiles nervous. He looked over at Scott, whose eyes were apologetic. 

"Now I can smell what was off about you….you smell like an animal." Scott said softly. "I…. _I_  did this to you…”  

Lydia burst into the clearing, huffing with her hands fisted in the lace of her dress pulled up from the ground. She leaned over as she wheezed for breath for a moment, before she moved over to Stiles and sat on the ground in front of him, staring at his eyes in astonishment. Lydia was still breathing heavy from running, so it was Scott who spoke next as he closed the twenty foot gap.

"Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell anyone?"

"I told my dad." Stiles growled, the sound surprising him. "I didn’t want…I didn’t want to trouble you, with Allison’s death and everything…in my defense I didn’t even discover the bite mark till yesterday morning. I was in too much pain to notice it when it happened." He breathed, closing his eyes a moment before looking at Lydia, his brows creased in worry. "My eyes are blue…aren’t they?"

Lydia was hesitant, her lips parting slowly. “No…” She blinked a few times. “They’re… _not._ ”

Stiles tensed. It didn’t sound like a confirmation that they were yellow. “What do you mean they’re not??”

Scott crouched down next to Lydia to get a better look as Stiles’ eyes flickered between his two friends anxiously. Scott furrowed his brows in confusion as Lydia looked intensely into the depths of his eyes. “They’re not blue…” She said quietly. “They’re…like a blueish-green… teal, almost.” 

Stiles lowered his brows, perplexed. “What is that supposed to mean??” Lydia jumped back from Stiles, standing up with her hands poised out defensively. When Scott’s eyes trailed down at his mouth and then his hands, Stiles realized he had claws protruding from his fingertips, and with a confirmation of his tongue he learned he had elongated fangs. He gasped, turning to look at Scott. He balled his hands up into fists, careful to not tighten up so much that his claws would dig into his palms. “How do I make them go away?” 

"Uhhh…" Scott looked like he was having a hard enough time absorbing that his best friend was now a werewolf. "I don’t know. It’s different for everyone. For me I used….Allison was my anchor…" His eyes became distant for a moment before he returned his focus onto his friend. "Derek uses his anger to anchor him…and I learned to be my own anchor and calm myself by thinking about my loved ones." 

Stiles tried. He shut his eyes as he thought about his father, Scott, Lydia, Isaac, Allison, he even tried thinking about his mother. He looked down at his hands as he uncurled his fingers to see the claws were still there. Panic rose in his throat and he could feel his body temperature rising. He fell onto his hands, his breathing heavy as he dug his claws into the earth, his jaw clenched in discomfort. “I can’t - control it -“

He looked up at Lydia with an anguish in his eyes. “Lydia - go back to the funeral - I don’t want to - to hurt you…” He had no idea what would happen. He could feel something clawing at him inside, trying desperately to get out. He didn’t want to accidentally kill the girl he loved because he couldn’t control the transformation, but Lydia remained standing.

"No." Her voice was oddly comforting in how unwavering she was in her determination. "I know you won’t hurt me, Stiles." Tears rolled silently off her cheeks. "I know you’d never hurt me. All you’ve ever done is  _protect_  me.” She took a few steps closer and knelt next to him, reaching out a frail hand to hold his shoulder. “Sometimes I still see him when I look at you…” Stiles knew she was referring to Void. He painfully recalled the look she gave him before the funeral. “…And I feel  _awful_  for ever thinking that. But then I look into your eyes…” She blinked away a few tears as she looked at him with adoration. “…even now…and I’m no longer scared. I know that I’m safe.”

Stiles released a soft exhale, his eyes less fearful but still alarmed. “That was when I was  _human_ , Lydia. There’s no telling what I’ll do now that I’ve lost all control.” A half growl half groan escaped his parted fangs as he felt the internal clawing intensify with burning strokes.

"Stiles is right, Lydia. I almost killed him when I first turned." Scott said matter of factly with a raise of his eyebrows. "At least give us a safe barrier, outside of claw-slashing distance would be best." Lydia rolled her eyes slightly but complied, standing up and walking a good twenty feet away, watching in anticipation.

Scott leaned in closer to Stiles to get a better whiff of his scent, stopping abruptly with a confounded expression. “You’re not turning into a werewolf, Stiles.” He frowned, his gaze worrisome.

"What do you mean  _I’m not turning into a werewolf?_ " 

"You smell…different. And your eyes are… different. I don’t know…"

"You’re turning into a fox." Lydia said suddenly, the look of epiphany on her features. Scott and Stiles looked over at her in curiosity as she continued. "Kira’s eyes aren’t yellow like a werewolf’s, they’re  _orange_. Maybe foxes have a different eye color pallet than wolves.”

"But kitsunes don’t transform…at least I’ve never seen Kira with claws or fangs…" Scott remarked.

"No, I’m not suggesting Stiles is becoming a  _kitsune_  - I don’t think anyone can  _become_ a kitsune, I think it’s hereditary.” Lydia swallowed, taking a few steps forward. “Remember how you said that sometimes the shape someone takes reflects the kind of person they are? Stiles…the Nogitsune may have chosen you for a reason…because deep down you’re  _not a wolf._  You’re too clever.”

"If I’m not turning into a kitsune then what are you suggesting?" Stiles asked between bated breath.

"A werefox. The color of your eyes suggesting you’re a kitsune and the claws and fangs suggesting you’re a were argue you’re turning into a werefox."

"Is there even such a thing as werefoxes?" Scott asked, as if Lydia were a walking bestiary.

"We just found out there’s such a thing as were _coyotes_ , so I would say yes.” Lydia huffed. “There’s probably werecats for all we know.”

Stiles groaned. “Did Malia ever mention how she felt when she started to turn into a coyote?”

Scott’s head snapped to his friend who was struggling, his limbs shaking. “Why?”

"Because -" He gasped. "I think- I think I’m changing. And now that I- that I’m concentrating…. _fox_  feels right.” 

Scott gaped at him for a minute. “You mean, changing, like into an  _animal?_ ”

"No, into a unicorn. What do you think dumbass?" He hissed as black triangular ears sprouted from his head. Scott and Lydia stared at him with jaws parted in awe. Although mostly black, there was the distinct golden brown fur at the base of his ears that belonged on a fox. Between growling breaths Stiles snapped at his astounded friends, his ears pinning back in frustration. " _What?_ ”

Scott reached out a hand towards Stiles’ head, to which he instinctively flinched from at first, but calmed down, allowing Scott to place a hand in his hair and stroke backwards till Stiles felt an unfamiliar sensation, his eyes widening. Scott brushed his fingers against the velvet ear before retreating his hand. “You have fox ears.”

Stiles gasped, the panic fully setting in as he realized he was slowly shifting away from his human skin. He looked at Scott, his eyes frantic, ears pinned down in fear. “Will I remember you guys? Will I remember anything? Or will I be wild and terrified?” He yelped an animal noise as he crouched lower to the ground, then turned his head wildly to confirm the pain in his spine as a red and white tail swished behind him. His breathing became hysterical as he looked up at Scott, his glowing sea-colored eyes terrified. He thought about Malia and how she was stuck as a coyote for eight years, and the panic only intensified. “I don’t want to forget, I don’t want to turn  _feral!_  Scott,-” He heaved, his voice turning guttural as his hands kneaded the dirt, anxious to change. He was fighting the urge, shoving down the animal in his rib cage clawing its way out, but he knew he couldn’t hold it back much longer. “You have to bring me back. You have to-“

Stiles was cut off when he yapped in pain. Scott gently placed his hands on his shaking shoulders. Stiles had his ears perked forward, and there was a hope in his eyes behind the panic. Scott looked at him hard, his voice strained from emotion. “You’re my brother, Stiles. I’ll do everything I can.” Stiles let out a low whine and nodded his head before growling again, his muscles shifting, his limbs buckling as they changed. Stiles stopped resisting, causing the shift to fluidly and painlessly pass through his bones. Scott took a step back to give him space, but remained close to the ground. Lydia took a few tentative steps closer as she watched the growling mass turn from a boy into a frightened fox. Lydia held her breath as the fox scrambled away from the clothing, looking back and forth between the two of them while crouched low to the ground.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked softly with parted lips. 

Stiles was terrified. His heart was beating so hard he thought it might explode, his breaths coming in short and rapid. His flight instincts were on fire, considering there was a  _wolf_  only a few feet from him. Tail bristling and ears flattened, he slowly crept backwards, away from the wolf.

"Stiles, it’s alright." Scott reached out a hand towards the fox only to have it flinch and snarl aggressively, teeth bared and threatening to sink into his fingers. "Stiles, it’s  _me_ , Scott.” The alpha’s eyes flashed red, but when he tried reaching out again, the fox snapped its jaws and growled ferociously, tail swishing angrily. 

"Scott, you probably reek of wolf. Stand back." Her words were soft but authoritative, and Scott slowly stood up and took a few steps back as Lydia slowly approached the fox, kneeling down slowly and holding out a hand for him to sniff. "Stiles, don’t be scared…"

With the wolf further away, the fur along Stiles’ spine relaxed, but his whiskers were still drawn back, ready to bite if necessary. His ears pulled forward as he took a tentative paw step closer to properly sniff the hand in front of him. She wasn’t human, but she wasn’t a  _wolf._  He looked up at the girl, his glowing eyes receding into a warm amber. Lydia wondered if he remembered anything, if he remembered her. She couldn’t read any recognition in the fox’s eyes as his nose twitched close to her hand. She slowly turned her palm down to try and stroke his head, but the fox scampered backwards a few steps, chest heaving with startled breath. Suddenly the fox jolted alert, looking behind Lydia with perked ears. Lydia turned around to see the Sheriff and Melissa approaching the clearing. When she turned back to see Stiles, he was gone, the white tip of his tail disappearing into the distance. 

"Scott-" Before she could tell him anything, the werewolf was running after his friend. Lydia sighed, picking up Stiles’ suit from the ground and walking over to the approaching parents. 

"Oh no." John said as he looked down at his son’s clothes. "What happened?"

Lydia pursed her lips together, blinking a few times in despair. “Stiles turned into a fox.” She made a face as she looked at the parents, making a strained noise at the back of her throat. There really wasn’t any more eloquent way to phrase it.

"He  _what?_ ”

"The bite didn’t turn Stiles into a werewolf. He turned into a werefox." She exhaled, looking at John and Melissa with uncertainty. "At least that’s what we’re assuming. He had all the signs of a werewolf, but then he turned into a fox. He was definitely a vulpes vulpes." She sighed. "But we don’t know if he remembers anything, or any of us. He seemed like a frightened animal."

"Well I think I would too if I just turned into one." Melissa remarked, her eyes sympathetic. "How did Stiles get bit to begin with?"

Lydia and John looked at each other for a moment before John decided to answer. “Scott bit the Nogitsune in order to kill it, but…apparently Stiles and the Nogitsune were linked…he had the same bite mark on his arm.” 

"And the bastard decided  _not to tell anyone about it_.” Lydia said bitterly. “Until now, when he’s having a were breakdown in the middle of Allison’s funeral and turning into a fox and running to god knows where.” She handed John his son’s clothes, then crossed her arms as she turned to look out over the forest where Stiles and Scott disappeared. Her shoulders trembled as she cried softly. “Why doesn’t he tell anyone he’s suffering? How am I supposed to help him if I don’t even know he’s in pain? How am I supposed to help  _anyone_ …. when all I’m good for is screaming when someone’s about to  _die?_ ”

John had an arm around Lydia’s shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. “Stiles didn’t want to make things harder on you or Scott. He was afraid he’d only cause you pain to see the same face that killed Allison…”

Melissa stood on the other side of Lydia, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Lydia, I think all the recent events were beyond our control. There’s nothing more you could have done. There’s nothing more any of us could have done.”

"I just wish-" Lydia sniffled, gaining a better grip on her shaky breathing. "I just wish there was something…." She looked up over at the distant trees, a shadow passing over her heart in a cold fear of death. She knew what was coming, the fear weighing down her heart like an anchor. She picked up her dress and ran, as the scream of demise escaped her lungs.

“ _STILES!!_ ”

 

 


	5. Critical

The wolf was  _fast_ , but Stiles was faster. The rush of the run and the overwhelming amount of exhilaration and trepidation running through his veins only caused his paws to push against the ground harder. As he ran further into the forest, somewhere in the back of his mind the place seemed familiar, causing a sudden fear to rise up in his throat. In his distraction the alpha caught up, practically on his tail. He pounded faster, gaining incredible speed and distance, until a scream caused his ears to perk up and a chill to run down his spine.

Chaos unfolded so fast, everything was a blur. Stiles stepped down on something hard and cold, causing steel jaws to ensnare into his flesh, ripping a loud whimper from his jaws as he tumbled in a somersault then jarred suddenly to a halt. Scott had to leap out of the way in order to slow down, but when he saw the fox twisted in a trap, the chain almost coming out of the ground, blood splattered everywhere, he felt his heart stop. “Stiles!” He ran over to his friend to find his body must have twisted before the trap clamped shut, since it dug into his left leg and the lower half of his abdomen, right into his stomach and intestines. The fox looked up at him terrified, lying on his side with the trap pinned on top of him. His breathing was so short and rapid it looked like he was twitching. Scott reached out a hand to try and comfort him, take away some of the pain, but the fox yowled in protest, trying to squirm away but only causing himself more pain, a defeated whimper escaping his snout. 

"Stiles, it’s ok, just let me help you." He had no idea how to help his fox friend out of the trap - he figured he’d have to take him to Deaton. Maybe they could find some answers concerning werefoxes from the druid as well, but the only thing on Scott’s mind was the deep fear that his friend was about to die. Stiles flattened his ears in defeat as Scott placed a hand on his shoulder blade, his veins running black as he absorbed some of his pain. "Stay with me, Stiles." 

Lydia ran into the clearing, almost hysterical as tears streamed down her face, gasping for air as he took in the scene before her. “We need- we need to get him to a vet. _Now._ " 

Scott looked over at Lydia’s terror with creased brows. “Was that scream…”

Lydia nodded. Her voice came in short, her fear seeping through the quivering sound. “If we don’t do something immediately, Stiles  _will_  die.”

 

 

»»««

 

 

Scott was about to use his hands to open the jaws of the trap, but Lydia stepped forward frantically. “Don’t!” She pulled Scott’s hands off and pointed to the wound along Stiles’ stomach. “If you release him, his guts will spill out. The trap is keeping him together. We need to release him when we are in a position to immediately stitch him up. We have to carry him in the trap. Can Deaton stitch up foxes?”

"Pretty sure." Scott replied. "If nothing else he’ll have something to safely knock Stiles out so we  _can_  stitch him up.” He looked over at Lydia. “Do you think you could carry him? He’s still kind of scared of the wolf in me.”

"Yeah, I’ll try." Lydia crouched next to Stiles, reassuringly stroking his head as Scott pulled the chain connected to the trap free from the ground. Lydia gently scooped up Stiles and the trap, careful not to shift the serrated edges. Stiles still howled in pain despite her attempts, but luckily he didn’t move too much. It was hard enough holding Stiles and the trap in her arms. Red foxes were only a little bit smaller than coyotes, so holding him in such an awkwardly twisted pose was proving difficult. "Can you grab the chain? You’re going to have to drive my car." 

Scott nodded, and they sped walked towards the parking lot since running caused Stiles to make too much noise. That, and Lydia couldn’t hold up her dress as easily. Scott pulled out his phone and started texting his mom and the Sheriff so they would know what was happening. His hands were shaking as he punched in the words, scrolling next to find the veterinarian. He texted Deaton so he would be ready for them, then helped Lydia get into the backseat with Stiles. She carefully laid him on the seat, one hand guarding him from falling off the seat while the other continued stroking his fur. Stiles no longer protested, he only let out the occasional quiet whimper. Lydia knew he didn’t have much time left, and it caused her eyes to burn. 

Scott drove as quickly as he could, practically jumping out of the car when they arrived at the veterinary clinic. Lydia, uttering a quiet “sorry”, picked up Stiles again and walked quickly into the office, lying him and the trap down on the operating table Deaton indicated. Stiles was very still, only his ribs moving slowly with labored breaths, his eyes closed. Lydia started fiddling with her hands as she anxiously watched the guys handle the situation.

Deaton first gave Stiles a shot to help dull the pain, then instructed Scott to slowly open the trap while he held Stiles’ stomach together with his hands. Once the trap was released, Stiles muttered a whine of relief, followed by a howl of onslaught pain. Luckily the shot Deaton gave him made him drowsy, so Stiles didn’t move. Scott slowly moved the trap out and away from Stiles’ body, throwing the contraption into the corner of the room. 

"I need you to hold him how I am while I stitch him up." Deaton instructed. He turned to face Lydia. "Can you come and hold down his legs?" Lydia nodded and rushed over to the other side of the table to pin down both Stiles’ hind and front legs. It was rather easy since he was lying on his side, Scott and Deaton working on the other side of the table to stitch up the wound. 

Lydia felt sick to her stomach watching Scott and Deaton’s hands covered in blood, so she focused on the fox face that occasionally winced, nose twitching and ears flicking. After a few stitches, his jaws parted to breathe easier, but with the tongue lolling out Lydia thought he looked dead. It was the occasional rise and fall of his chest that kept her tears from spilling over.

Once Deaton was done and they properly bandaged the fox and gave him another shot that put him to sleep, the three of them stood around the table in a calm silence. It looked like Stiles would live, and Lydia felt like she finally did something right. 

 

 

»»««

 

 

"What do you know about werefoxes?" Scott asked, looking over at the druid for answers.

"He’s clearly not a kitsune." Deaton mused. "Kitsunes don’t transform. Shapeshifting is an attribute tied only to weres, which means he  _has_  to be a werefox. But I don’t know much about werefoxes, although unlike you two, I  _have_  heard of them before. They’re not well heard of, save for areas barren of any werewolves.”

"Do you know how to make them change back?" Scott asked with a pleading in his puppy brown eyes.

"There’s too many variables to say. For some weres it’s incredibly hard to change back, because once the animal instincts take over their mind, it’s hard to think like a human again."

"I was able to change Malia by howling at her though…would the same work for Stiles?"

"Probably not." Deaton said, giving Scott that look he knew all too well. "Wolves and coyotes function in packs with alphas, they have a hierarchy and they listen to their leaders. Foxes not so much. They do as they please. Although I would agree, Stiles is a part of your pack, he’s still a fox. Foxes, however, are very familial creatures."

"What do you mean by that?" 

Lydia cut in. “It means foxes form strongly-knit family units, similar to a pack. But I think that means the best person to try and get Stiles to change back would be his father…since he’s the only family he has.”

Deaton nodded. “I think it would also be best if Scott gave Stiles some space, just until he has the fox instincts under control. Foxes don’t get along with wolves. The stronger his fear and instinct of fight or flight, the harder it’ll be for him to change back.”

Scott sighed, looking at the fox with worry. “I’ll talk to Chris, I’m sure he can find out something. He’s probably wondering why we all left the funeral.” He looked over at Lydia. “Do you mind…making sure he’s alright?”

"I’m not going anywhere." Lydia said softly.

"Thank you Lydia. For…everything." Scott said with a smile. "Stiles would be dead right now if it weren’t for you."

The redhead offered a broken smile before the alpha left. She looked over at the fox sleeping on the operating table before returning her attention to the veterinarian. “He’s healing, right? Supernaturally, I mean.”

"It’s hard to say." Deaton said. "In a few hours we should be able to tell if he’s healing at a supernatural pace. Either way, he’ll live. I can assure you of that."

Lydia released of small sigh of relief before taking out her phone and calling John Stilinski. 

 

 


	6. Recovery

Everything hurt, and everything felt strange. He remembered running through the woods but for some reason the memory was as if he were running on four legs with a lower vantage point. Then he remembered gnashing of teeth, and the gentle contact of hands. Everything was hazy, his memory disorienting, and when he opened his amber eyes, he saw a pattern of roses. Fingers gliding along his spine startled him as he scampered away in confusion, falling and hitting the floor with a jolt of pain running through his veins that left stars in his vision. He huffed in confusion, then stared at his outstretched…. _paws_. 

"Stiles? Are you alright?" Lydia leaned over the side of the bed, concern plastered on her face.

"Lydia?" Stiles said in return, but it came out as a high pitched yap, which caused him to groan, which translated into a growl.

The strawberry blonde’s eyes narrowed, her brows coming together in confusion. She got off the bed and knelt down in front of the fox, setting her book aside and leaning in close to him to whisper. “Say something. Tell me something.”

Stiles tilted his head slightly, then tried saying something to her again. “I really like curly fries?” The sound that came out was a series of fox barks.

Lydia blinked rapidly, staring at him idly, her eyes staring off into no where as if she was trying to listen. Her shoulders were tense, and Stiles recognized the stance from when she was tuning into a frequency only she could hear. “Something about curly fries?” She asked, looking at him again.

Stiles lifted his head from the floor, his ears fully perked, his tail flicking in surprise. “You can understand me?”

It must have taken a while for her to hear the translation, because she sat there in silence before slowly nodding her head. “If I listen hard enough…I can hear your voice.” She exhaled, relaxing a bit and leaning against the wall. She was wearing a rose pattern dress, hair down and slightly curly. Stiles figured it was later in the day, maybe even the next day. He couldn’t remember much between the funeral and now. 

"What happened? I don’t remember much." He barked, then whimpered in pain. His leg and underside were throbbing in sharp pangs. Lydia bent forward and carefully scooped him up into her arms, returning to his bed. He realized for the first time he was in his own room, and Lydia was apparently watching over him. When she situated herself on the bed, she let go of Stiles, allowing him to get comfortable. He decided to lay down on his side since it hurt his stomach the least, and propped himself up onto his elbows. He could smell the stress coming off of Lydia in waves, and he wished there was something he could do to soothe that tension.

"Well, to play catch up, you turned into a fox." She gestured to him as if to make a point. "Obviously. And I think you had fox instincts clouding your judgment because you were terrified of Scott. When your dad approached us you bolted, and Scott ran after you. And…you ran into a trap, like the one you saved me from…and Scott and I took you to Deaton as quickly as we could, and you got stitched up, and then we brought you home to heal. Your dad knows everything, and I volunteered to watch over you since…well, your dad has work and didn’t want to leave his injured fox-turned son at home alone, and we weren’t sure if you’d still be terrified of Scott or Isaac, because they’re both…a wolf."

Stiles tried to remember even just a sliver of what she said had happened, and he found he could barely remember anything. Turning into a fox for the first time must have done a number on his memory. He looked up at Lydia and yapped again, “How’s my dad handling everything?”

She idly stroked the back of her hand from his head and down his back as she spoke. “You know your dad. He’s…adjusting. It’s all weird and new to him but just like any other supernatural thing we’ve thrown at him, he’s handling it alright.” She laughed softly. “He was unsure whether he should go and buy you rabbit meat or get you flea control… I told him I’d figure that out for him.” She smirked and Stiles shook his head, laughing to himself. “Scott’s been trying to find out as much as he can on werefoxes since he can’t be around you. Deaton doesn’t know much, but Scott’s hoping Chris knows a thing or two.”

"I don’t think I want rabbit meat…." Stiles wasn’t sure how to feel about Lydia petting him, but he was a  _fox_ , and it felt nice. It was still strange all the same. There was a lot he was going to have to get used to. He looked at Lydia, nuzzling his head into her hand. “How are  _you_  handling everything? I’m sorry I kind of…ruined the funeral…”

"Stiles it’s fine.  _I’m_  fine.” Her voice became quiet, her gaze distant. “I’ve had plenty of time to grieve. I’ve also had plenty of time to cry. And…oddly enough, your transformation was a nice distraction. I can’t sit in despair forever. I can’t let anyone else die.” She looked at him, her green eyes strong but broken all at the same time, like the shattered glass in a mosaic. “I screamed your name that day.” She paused, swallowing so she could properly speak without her voice cracking. “I predicted your death right before you ran into that trap. And…I was so scared you were going to die, and I was going to be useless in saving anyone a second time. But you pulled through. I helped pull you through. It was the first time….as a banshee…that I helped saved a life, instead of finding the dead body.”

If Stiles were human he would have hugged her in that moment because he could see she needed it. Instead he did the next best gesture of comfort he figured a fox could do, and that was walking onto her lap and nuzzling into her cheek. She wrapped her arms around him in an embrace, her eyes sad but barren of any tears. Stiles buried his muzzle into her shoulder, swishing his tail lazily in pleasure. “Thank you.” He yipped.

Lydia smiled, rubbing a hand down his spine. “You’re welcome fox face.” 

Stiles playfully bit her shoulder, which elicited a “hey!” out of Lydia, then settled down to lay on her lap. “What day is it?” Stiles asked, his ears pinning back.

"It’s Friday evening."

 _The funeral was Thursday morning.._. Stiles lifted his head and looked at Lydia, his ears flattened in annoyance. “I was out that whole time??”

"Deaton gave you some powerful stuff. It’s all good though, because it seems you’re doing a lot better. Are you? Feeling better, that is." 

Stiles growled. “ _This_  is all taking a while to get used to.” He looked down at his black paws and back at his tail before looking at Lydia again. “I mean…I’m a _fox_ , Lydia. What the hell is up with that? Scott didn’t turn into a  _wolf_  after he got bit. That’s like…a superpower of born weres.”

Lydia shook her head. “I don’t know…Deaton made it sound like any were could fully shift, whether born or bitten. But Scott’s talking with Chris about…all of this…so hopefully he’ll have some answers.”

"Hopefully."

His stomach growled so loud it caused both Stiles and Lydia to look down where the stitches were. He looked up at Lydia and whimpered. “I’m  _starving_ …to  _death_. I think I would even eat rabbit meat at this point. Hell I might even start eating you at this point.” He looked down at Lydia’s arm as if it were tempting.

Lydia released a thoughtful hum. “I don’t know what you can digest in this state….and I don’t know if eating would upset your wound…the trap  _did_  rip part of your stomach wall. But then again I don’t know if you’re healing super fast either….”

Stiles had no idea how much he had healed, since he couldn’t remember what the injury was like to begin with. “Either way I should be able to eat meat….maybe you could order pizza and I’ll eat the toppings?” 

Lydia laughed. “That sounds like a good plan. Of course, even as a fox, you’d want to get pizza. I don’t think you’ve changed at  _all._ " She scratched behind his ear, causing the fox to melt into a puddle of happiness, tail flicking occasionally. He released a whine of pleasure. Lydia smiled and continued to scratch his fur as she called up the closest pizza place. 

 

 

»»««

 

 

John walked into his house to find a strawberry blonde lying on her stomach in the living room, a box with a half eaten pizza on the ground, picking off the pepperoni from her slice and feeding it to an anxious red fox that playfully bounded in circles around her. To most people it would be an extremely bizarre sight, but John just sighed, closing the door behind him.

"Oh hey, Sheriff, do you want some pizza?" Lydia stood up and walked over to him, but Stiles beat her, front paws reaching up his dad’s leg, tail swishing contently. "He’s feeling better." She remarked. 

John laughed, kneeling down to scratch behind the fox’s ears, getting a happy whine in response. “I take it you can understand us?” He asked, looking at Stiles expectantly. He responded by nodding his head, ears flicking a few times. “Good. You had me worried.”

Stiles tried to give him a deadpan expression, but he knew that only went so far with a fox face.  _You’re always worried dad, what are you talking about._  He scampered back over to the box of pizza and started gnawing on some crust. 

"Thank you Lydia. You can head home now if you want."

"No, it’s no problem. And actually, I think I’ll stay the night." She leaned in closer to whisper so Stiles wouldn’t hear. "He’s still kind of startled by everything, so I think staying here would help keep him….grounded, I guess. Plus, he was cuddly earlier." A sudden series of yapping caused Lydia to close her eyes and mentally facepalm. Of course Stiles could hear her. She forgot he had those darn supernatural hearing senses now. "Besides, if Scott comes over tonight, I think it’d be better if I was here too. Just in case the…animal kicks back in." 

Stiles padded back over to the two of them, half a slice of pizza in his mouth. He growled at them, but with his mouth full of food, Lydia couldn’t understand the translation. She rolled her eyes and picked him up, holding him like a cat. She took the pizza out of his mouth and bopped his nose. Stiles hissed at her, and she chuckled. It seemed even when Stiles was a fox they still bantered. 

"He lets you pick him up?" John asked, as if it were weird.

Stiles looked over at him and opened and closed his jaws as if he were laughing at his dad. Lydia clamped a hand over his muzzle. “Well…he’s kind of in the shape of a cute furry animal, so it only seems rude  _not_  to hold him.” The fox glared at her and licked her hand so she would remove it, ears pinned back as he snarled at her.

"I’m not cute. I’m a wild and vicious animal." 

Lydia wanted to remark that he was still furry, but kept it to herself since she didn’t want to try and explain to the Sheriff that she could understand his fox son. She figured he had enough to wrap his brain around. “I’ll call Scott to come over, since the cute and furry one is feeling better.” Stiles hissed at her again, but she quickly shut the fox up by scratching behind his ears. 

"I’ll keep in mind never to call him that." John mused with a smile. He walked over to the pizza box and picked it up, grabbing himself a slice before setting it on the counter. "That’s all I want, you kids enjoy the rest." He turned to Stiles and rubbed his head. His amber eyes turned that unique electric blue-green shade once more, causing John to stiffen. He quickly relaxed and smiled though. "I’m glad you’re feeling better, son." 

 

 

»»««

 

 

"His eyes glowed when his dad petted him." Lydia said to Scott, who was sitting on the floor in Stiles’ room, eating a slice of pizza. Lydia was pacing around as Stiles kept biting Scott to try and get more toppings fed to him. 

"Maybe it’s like what you and Deaton said, and that it would take a familial relationship to get him to change back." Scott was glad Stiles was mentally back to normal, but the biting was getting annoying, and foxes had sharp teeth. His skin healed instantly, but he kept throwing his friend dirty glances. "Maybe I want the meat to myself!" Scott protested. Stiles responded with a snarl. 

"What if transforming back right now would only cause his stitches to rip back open though?" Lydia asked, running a hand through her hair in thought. Stiles was significantly larger as a human and she was afraid that if his skin stretched that much, all his organs would spill out onto the floor. "Should we wait till he’s fully healed?"

Stiles looked at Lydia then back to Scott expectantly. He hadn’t even thought about his stitches, but now that it was brought up, Stiles figured he wouldn’t mind staying stuck as a fox for a while longer.

"I don’t know." Scott said. "I’m scared that the longer we wait, the harder it’ll be for him to change back. Deaton told me that sometimes when a were fully shifts, they get permanently stuck. They don’t only forget how to think like a human, but they forget the fundamentals like what it’s like to have hands. The animal starts to take over till there’s nothing human left. I remember when Stiles was scared out of his mind right before he turned, that he would forget, and I promised him that I would bring him back." He paused, taking a bite of his pizza and chewing it as he pondered. "Stiles, you may remember who we are, but do you remember how to brush your teeth or write with a pen?" 

Stiles stopped pulling off the toppings on the piece of pizza he had clutched between his paws, licking his lips with a happy swish of his tail. “I don’t know. I’d have to have  _hands_  to figure that out.” He barked.

"What did he say?" 

Lydia paused. “He says he doesn’t know. He needs hands to figure it out.” 

Scott and Lydia stared at each other for a moment before looking over at Stiles with concern. “What?” He yipped. “My brain is currently overwhelmed trying to figure out how the hell to work with  _paws._  I’m sure if I had hands it’d make more sense. Calm down.”

Lydia translated for Scott, and they both looked at Stiles with slight annoyance, but mostly worry. It seemed the sarcasm would always be permanent with Stiles. Scott let out a low sigh. “I’m just worried…Malia was sent to Eichen House because she was having a hard time figuring things out. But she should adapt fairly quickly - Deaton said that born weres are better at switching between forms no matter how long it’s been, but turned weres have a much harder time.” He looked over at the fox that was now lying on his back, digesting contently.

"At least he’s not freaking out around you anymore." Lydia mused. "I’ll keep talking with him, because I’m sure that’s keeping him grounded."

Stiles let out a whuff of approval. It was one thing to understand what everyone said, but it was another blessing entirely to have someone understand him in return. Scott leaned over and grabbed the fox by his forelegs to drag him over to where he was sitting, Stiles growling softly in protest. Scott looked carefully at the stitches running along his friend’s stomach, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “It seems foxes don’t heal as fast as wolves…” 

If Stiles could frown he would have, but the lowering of the ears did the trick. He barked a “What?”

"Stiles is wondering what you mean by that." Lydia elaborated.

"What I mean is I’ve had wounds as bad as this one before, but I healed within a day. It’s been almost two and Stiles is still healing. It looks like his leg is fully healed but not his stomach…"

"Maybe the healing process is slower when a were is fully shifted?" Lydia suggested.

"I wouldn’t know…I haven’t exactly shifted into a wolf before. And I don’t know anyone who could answer that besides Malia and….Peter."

Lydia frowned at the mention of his name. She shifted her attention to the fox. “How badly does it hurt, Stiles?” 

He looked down at his stitches as if he needed to see them to confirm his answer, then rolled onto his paws so he was sitting upright. “Not terribly…it’s kind of a dull throb. But it hurt like hell when I fell off the bed earlier.”

"You’ve definitely healed since Thursday then, at a supernatural pace that is." Lydia explained. "An injury like that would leave you incapable of moving around, fox or not. So maybe the healing is just a bit slower when fully shifted?" She shrugged. "Or foxes don’t heal as fast as wolves."

"Eating food again is probably helping you heal faster too." Scott said to Stiles. "But I’ll keep asking around and try to find out as much as I can. I’m meeting with Chris tomorrow to discuss what he finds out from his relatives. But you shouldn’t push yourself…I know this is all new to you, and frankly…" Scott sighed softly. "…I thought if I ever had to help you with being a were, you wouldn’t be stuck as a fox. I have no idea what to do to help you…I’m sorry…"

Stiles got up and sat next to Scott, his warm amber eyes somehow sorrowful. He offered a head nudge into his friend’s shoulder, offering a small whine.

Scott scratched behind the fox’s ears and looked at Lydia. “What did he say?”

Lydia smiled painfully. “He said  _'don't be.'_ ”

 

 


	7. Subsiding

Stiles wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to imagine himself as human and that would shift him back? Was he supposed to have some type of anchor or mantra to transform himself? He could understand reasons why a were would fully shift, and there were many reasons. Fear, overwhelming emotion, lack of control, impulses, the pull of the moon, or even the simplicity of unfamiliarity. Becoming an animal was easy. Stiles had no idea what it took to become human.

The more he thought about being human, the less he could remember, and it frustrated him. It was like trying to remember your own amnesia. Shortly after Scott left, Stiles’ mind wandered into terrifying dark places that taunted he would be stuck like this forever. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to have hands, or what his perspective was like at six feet instead of one and a half feet, or what it was like to not be able to hear his dad turning onto their street a few blocks away. 

It sent him into a panic.

Lydia saw Stiles try to bolt out the door but she closed it fast enough so that he couldn’t leave. Stiles whined before frantically running over to the window, paws scraping at the glass, then dashing underneath the bed and then back to Lydia, yapping hysterically the whole time. His jaws snapped at Lydia as if he were yelling at her, his ears pinned back and his tail lashing.

"Stiles, I can’t understand you when you talk like that." Lydia should have sounded frustrated with the fox, but her tone came out worried, scared almost. She only picked up a few words from him, but mostly it was just a gnawing wave of fear. She knew this couldn’t be good, and it wasn’t helping him stay grounded as a human. 

The fox yelling was loud, and there was a knock on the door. “Lydia, what’s going on?! Is Stiles alright?”

Stiles responded with furious barks, growling at the door before running around the room wildly. 

Lydia’s lips quivered. “I think your son is having a panic attack. As a fox.” She inhaled sharply. “And I’ve no idea what to do.” 

"Try holding him." John’s voice was muffled behind the door. "That helps him calm down."

She wanted to make the tart remark that his son had  _claws_  now, but she didn’t want to add to the tension. She walked towards the center of the room where the fox was chaotically dashing back and forth from the corners of the room, to the window, the door, and back again, clawing at the walls and howling in frustration. Lydia cornered him, knelt down onto all fours and reached out a hand to the cowering fox. “Stiles…calm down.”

Stiles snarled at her, his jaws moving threateningly, his eyes flashing cerulean. Fear pricked Lydia’s heart, but she kept reaching towards him, her eyes steady. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Just as her hand was within reach, Stiles retaliated with a strike as fluid as a snake, fangs clamping into her hand with a violent twist. Lydia screamed as Stiles yowled, and John came in the room with concern plastered on his face. Stiles saw the escape and shoved past Lydia who held her injured hand, and continued to bolt out the open door and disappear down the hallway. John looked somewhat started by the fox leaving the room, but he ignored it for now and approached the crying girl on the floor.

"He bit you?" John asked incredulously. 

The strawberry blonde looked up at him with puffy eyes, her lips bent into a frown. “He’s  _scared_  out of his mind. He’s scared the animal will take over and he’ll never be human again, and as he freaked out about that it sent him into a panic….and that fear is only the catalyst to keeping him stuck as a fox.” She sniffled, cradling her shaking hands as blood dripped onto her floral dress. “I don’t care that he bit me. He’s not himself right now.”

"Will….biting you…." The sheriff struggled to find the right words, but Lydia knew where he was going.

"No, it takes an alpha to do that. Although…" Her eyebrows creased in thought. "Foxes don’t have alphas…." She looked up at John, about to say something more but a loud crash downstairs caused both their heads to turn towards the open door. Lydia began to stand and head out of the room, but John held out a hand to stop her.

"I think the best thing we can do is leave him alone." John said sadly, as if he just sentenced his son to pain and misery. "Clearly he doesn’t want any kind of human contact when he’s upset like this…maybe we need to just wait till the fox instincts wear off."

"But what if he’s hurt? What if his stitches broke open?" There was another clatter and the sound of more glass breaking.

"He’s just knocking dishes off the counter." John sighed. "There’s no way he can get out of the house by himself. I think the best thing we can do is give him space. In the meantime, let’s get you bandaged up."

Lydia didn’t like the sound of it, but it was the best, and only, plan they had.

 

 

»»««

 

 

The living room was a mess. Broken glass and ceramic shards were scattered all over the wooden kitchen floor, things were knocked over and destroyed, and little crimson pawprints and smears were scattered all over the place. Stiles cut up a paw or two from stepping on the shards, and although they would heal relatively fast, it was slow enough to allow a bunch of blood to seep into the carpet. The windows had stains all over the panes and the floor had claw marks chiseled into the wood. Wheezing from exhaustion, Stiles found a corner in the room to cower behind an armchair. His paws were sore from all the cuts and running, and his throat was raw from all the yapping and howling. He felt weak in his bones, and weary in his heart. 

Mostly though, he just felt scared.

The taste of Lydia’s blood was still on his tongue, and it drove him into a frenzy. He wanted to bite her again, feel her soft flesh tearing beneath his fangs, and taste the warm metallic crimson as he lapped his tongue over the punctures. The more he thought about it, the more his current form felt right. He couldn’t remember what he was freaking about earlier, and decided to start grooming his ragged fur because it felt like the thing to do. 

 

 

»»««

 

 

Lydia wondered how long she should wait. It had been ten minutes since the strange silence settled upon the home, and she figured Stiles had eased out of his panic attack. She wasn’t sure if she should wait longer, if she should see him right now, or if she should wait till tomorrow morning. 

 _No, Stiles needs someone to talk to. He needs that human vocal interaction to keep him grounded._  She told John she was going to approach him, and that he should come with. She was hoping the familial tie with foxes would help pull Stiles out of his clouded mind if his father was there. 

Lydia looked at the tarnished living room and kitchen, her expression mournful. The bloody paw prints and grooved claw marks and broken plates were physical manifestations of Stiles’ pain. The sight was anything but pretty. For some reason she got the impression she would find a dead body somewhere in the room. Maybe that was because Stiles was trying to kill the animal inside of him. 

Or maybe it was the other way around. 

"Stiles?" Her voice came out more frightened than she expected, so with a clearing of her throat, she spoke again, her voice unwavering. "Stiles? Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"It’s ok, son…" John said comfortingly. "We want to help…"

After some searching, Lydia finally found the fox cowered in the corner behind the chair, his crouched and trembling stance giving the impression of a frightened and injured feral animal. He wasn’t growling or biting anymore - he was retreating. If a door or window were open, Lydia was certain he would dash outside and run far away from everything. 

She slowly moved the armchair so she could more easily reach him, but the fox didn’t move. His head was still buried in the corner, his limbs crumpled up in a defeated position, his tail tucked away between his legs. Lydia was on her knees, reaching out a tentative hand, pausing a foot away from the red fur with uncertainty in her troubled eyes. Stiles looked dead. She was scared to approach that.

The sheriff was close behind her for support, so she took in a deep breath and extended her hand. When her fingers graced Stiles’ head, the only movement she saw to confirm he was alive was the soft flicker of an ear. It seemed indifferent, defeated. The lack of a response only caused her heart to feel heavier. 

"Stiles?…" The sound was barely above a whisper. The fox remained motionless.

Lydia slowly ran her hand down his back, but Stiles didn’t budge. Turning her head over her shoulder, Lydia looked at John apathetically.

Stiles didn’t want to move for fear that his bones would snap. He didn’t want his dad or Lydia to be anywhere near him, especially after what he had done to Lydia’s hand. He couldn’t live with himself knowing he subsided to the animal instincts and hurt the one he loved most. He wondered if he stayed as still as possible, if they would eventually leave. He didn’t want to talk with Lydia. All it did was remind him he couldn’t talk when he heard yapping escape his snout. It was a hellish kind of wake up call to remind him he wasn’t human. He had to keep reminding himself that Lydia petting him and stroking his spine was supposed to be…normal, at least in this form. Sometimes he still thought he was human when her fingers ran down his back, and it sent warm shivers down his spine. But then the frisson continued down his tail, and he sadly remembered he wasn’t human.

He didn’t want their comfort or their pity. He wanted to pretend he didn’t exist and that everything in the past two days had never happened. As depressing as it sounded, he wished more than anything he could be back at Allison’s funeral as a normal person. Instead he was stuck in a different body and everything was so…

Complicated.

Before he knew it, sturdy hands were picking him up and placing his limp paws onto a lap. He collapsed like a cat, refusing to lift his eyes from the ground, but his dad continued talking anyway. “Stiles, we’ll figure something out. You’ve got Scott, and Derek, Deaton, Chris, and Lydia trying to figure out how to change you back, and if I have to drive a thousand miles to find another werefox to teach you how to shift, then so be it. We’ll figure this out, all of us.”

Stiles remained unresponsive, not even a flick of his ears or tail to show any sign of acknowledgement. Lydia was so devastated she burst at the seams in agitation, her voice incredibly loud in the thick silence.

"Stiles - can you please say something, or at least look at me?? I need to know - I need to…" Tears welled up in her eyes as she was unable to finish her thought of needing to know that he was still human inside. Stiles slowly lifted his head to look up at Lydia’s distressed expression, his eyes glowing a brilliant blue-green. He let out a low whine that sounded pathetic, and when Lydia heard Stiles’ human voice behind the animal, it sounded like he was crying.

"I bit you. I’m no different than the Nogitsune."

 

 


	8. A Harder Path

"Stiles, I’m fine." Lydia protested for the third time. She took Stiles up into his bedroom to try and comfort him (and speak to him without looking crazy) while John began cleaning up the mess downstairs. Stiles was lying lazily on the bed on his side while Lydia paced around, running a hand through her hair.

"You’re just saying that to make me feel better." He whined. He didn’t have the resolve to tell her he enjoyed biting her, and that his instincts were screaming to do it again, like a drug.

"No, I’m not." Lydia walked over to the bed and knelt down so she was at eye level with the fox. She took off the bandage on her hand and showed the open wound to him. "See? It’s hardly anything."

Stiles looked at the bite mark with flattened ears. He wanted to lick it better because that’s what he would do to his own wounds, but he figured that would be too weird. He had to remind himself not to act like an animal. Instead he touched his nose sadly against her skin, pushing his snout into her hand.

"Stiles…" She breathed, her eyes widening slightly.

When he looked up at her his eyes were glowing that shade of teal, and he felt a surge of warmth pass through his body. He looked over at her injury before returning his gaze to Lydia.

"What just happened?" He yapped.

"I think…" Lydia stared at her hand like she had never seen it before. "I think you just tried healing me."

Stiles’ ears perked up as his eyes slowly faded back to their warm orange. “What do you mean, healing you?”

"I think I know why foxes heal slower than wolves." Lydia said, turning to him with an excitement in her voice. "Werewolves can take away someone’s pain, but what if foxes actually take away the injury itself?" 

"But Void needed to use Scott to absorb other’s pain…why not just suck the pain out of people himself?"

"Maybe it works differently. How did you feel when you touched me?"

"It felt…" He pushed his snout back into Lydia’s hand, closing his eyes as he focused on the surge of energy coursing through his veins. It was warm and inviting, strengthening his bones and relaxing his muscles. The pleasure quickly turned to pain, that same energy darkening into a sharp burning sensation, causing Stiles to whine and scamper backwards, staring at Lydia’s hand with teal irises. His jaws were parted as he stood there, panting.

"What? What happened?" Lydia saw her injury was completely gone, the skin smoothed over as if the bite never existed. She looked over at Stiles in worry. He fell onto his side, heaving breaths as he closed his eyes, ears pinned back. "Stiles, are you alright?"

"Not really…" He wuffed. "It felt nice at first, but then in  _hurt_ …and now my stomach is hurting again…” His paws drew in closer to his body as his tail twitched in agitation.

"Well…you healed the bite mark. Completely." She raised her eyebrows as she looked at her hand again. "Healing someone must prevent you from healing yourself. That means no more healing for you till you get better."

"You don’t need to tell me twice." He whimpered.

 

 

»»««

 

 

Lydia ended up sleeping in Stiles’ bed, which he was completely fine with, despite the fact that the first time Lydia slept in his bed progressed in his mind a little differently, but he couldn’t complain. Sleeping at her feet made him feel like a dog, (and although he would never tell her, Lydia’s feet smelled, but with a fox nose everyone’s feet smelled) and sleeping near her chest made him feel like a cat, so he settled with sleeping against her backside. Lydia assured him she didn’t roll over in her sleep, which allowed Stiles to stretch out comfortably.

He could feel her steady breathing and smell the faint fruity and flowery scent coming from her spiraling locks of hair. He relaxed, the pain subsiding as he immersed himself into a dark slumber.

It wasn’t till Lydia screamed that he woke up.

"What- What’s wrong?" Stiles bolted up onto all fours, looking at Lydia with perked ears. She had tears streaming down her face, her hands fisted into the sheets in a stiff upright position. She looked like she was trying to answer him, her lips wavering, but all that came out were more tears and wracking sobs.

Stiles tentatively moved closer to her, rubbing his head into her shoulder with a sad whimper. She quickly wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his soft fur. Stiles wasn’t sure what to do, so he just rested his head around the curve of her shoulder blade, allowing Lydia to let out her tears. A minute or so later, she pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she composed her breathing. 

"I’m sorry Stiles…I just…I keep seeing…" She sniffled, burying her face into one of her hands.

"I know…" Stiles whined softly. "You keep seeing her dying."

Lydia looked up at the fox with wounded eyes, her eyebrows creased in concern. “You see her too?”

Stiles nodded slowly. “Every time it’s slightly different…I suppose that’s because I never actually….saw it happen…but it hurts the same every time. Sometimes I see her from  _his_  perspective…but I always hear you screaming her name…”

Lydia’s eyes gleamed in the darkness, her lips pulling into a frown. “I do too…I guess we’re the only ones who never…saw it happen…but Scott told me she said she felt no pain…”

"He said Allison said her death was perfect, that she died exactly as she would have wished…that comforts me to know she left this world peacefully, and that it was…less painful than it could have been, I suppose." He looked up at Lydia with lowered ears. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah….I’ll be ok." She said weakly. She gave him a faint smile before scratching behind his ears. "I need to be strong, for Allison. She wouldn’t want me to cry." 

"It’s ok to cry, Lydia. That’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of being  _human_.” Stiles nudged his head into her hand. “Besides, I still think you’re beautiful when you cry.”

Lydia was quiet a moment while she continued stroking the fox’s head. “Thank you, Stiles…” She said quietly before the two of them settled back down, this time with Stiles right up next to Lydia so she could wrap her arms around him and softly cry herself to sleep.

 

 

»»««

 

 

Scott arranged a meeting at Derek’s loft, so Chris could tell them everything he found out about werefoxes in a place that was safer for Stiles. The meeting place was favored by everyone by the additional fact that the Argent home would remind everyone of Allison. Scott, and everyone else, needed a little more time to heal.

Stiles came to appreciate seat belts. As Lydia drove to Derek’s loft, all Stiles could do was flatten himself against the floor of the passenger seat. In any other position he had no sense of balance and would slam all over the place. When Lydia finally stopped the car in the woods, Stiles let out a heaving wuff of relief, leaping out of the car as soon as Lydia opened his door. He panted for breath, his legs spread out as he tried to get a hold a gravity and keep it from spinning.

Lydia could tell he was struggling, so she scooped him up and carried him into the loft, despite the fox’s growling protests.

"Aww he _is_  cute and cuddly.” Isaac remarked when they entered. Stiles gave him the best fox-glare he could muster, growling in protest.

"Isaac, you know in this form he’s a lot more likely to tear your throat out." Derek remarked dryly. "Imagine what he’ll do when he shifts back."

Stiles barked something at Isaac, but Lydia just rolled her eyes and said “I’m not translating that.” She set him down on the table and sat next to him. She turned to look at Scott. “Where’s Chris?”

"He’s on his way, he should be here soon." He explained. "He said one of his cousins have dealt with werefoxes before, so he knows quite a lot, actually."

"Hopefully something to help change him back." Derek said.

"It’s not going to be that easy." A new voice came in through the front door to reveal Malia as she entered the loft. 

Lydia skeptically pointed a finger towards the werecoyote. “How is she able to be here?” 

"Morell works at Eichen House, and was able to release her." Scott said. "Don’t worry, she’s fine."

"I’m not going to eat any of you if that’s what you’re wondering." Malia exclaimed, giving Lydia a look. She moved her gaze to Stiles, her eyes glowing blue. "Yeah, that’s definitely Stiles. I can practically smell the sarcasm coming off of him." Stiles tried to give her a deadpan expression (mainly by the dropping of his ears) before she sat on the couch next to Isaac.

"It’s nice to see you too, Malia." Stiles yapped.

"He says hi." Lydia stated.

"Wait, you can understand him?" Malia arched a brow in confusion.

"Apparently it’s a perk of being a banshee." Lydia mused. 

Chris entered with a hasty “Sorry I’m late”, to which he walked over to the table to look at Stiles as if he were a rare artifact.

"Sorry I kind of…ruined the funeral." Stiles barked.

"He says he’s sorry he ruined the funeral." Lydia said sadly. She almost wanted to stop Stiles from ever thinking like that, but she still wanted to translate his apology to the Argent, despite his wrong pretensions.

"Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have stopped the transformation from happening. My speech was awful anyhow." Chris said dryly. "But onto more pertinent things."

"What did you learn from your cousin?" Scott asked.

"Marissa said she and her husband dealt with werefoxes a few years back. She only knew the darker knowledge of their kind however, so what you’ll hear from me will sound slightly familiar with what we’ve dealt with recently."

Stiles stiffened. “Like the Nogitsune.” Isaac remarked.

"Very similar. Werefoxes are vastly different from werewolves in two ways - werefoxes fully transform regularly on the full moon, and werefoxes don’t have an innate sense of bloodthirst like werewolves."

"If they don’t have bloodlust, what do they have a thirst for?" Stiles yipped. Lydia relayed the translation.

Chris was silent a moment, looking at Stiles with a hard hesitance in his eyes. “Mischief.” This was sounding more and more like nogitsunes than kitsunes as Stiles listened to the Argent speak. “Werefoxes don’t revel in killing people, but rather they enjoy causing as much chaos as they can. That’s why on full moons, they shift into actual foxes, because they’re able to wreak more havoc in that form.”

"Well that doesn’t sound so bad. I’ll just have to resist being a troublemaker for one night a month, right?" Lydia asked Stiles’ question.

"I hear it’s not that simple. The less chaos, strife, and pain a werefox feeds off of, the harder it is to shift back. Apparently foxes feed off of chaos the way wolves can feed off of pain. It makes them stronger, and they need that energy in order to shift. Marissa said she encountered some werefoxes that were stuck in their form permanently because they were too kind to cause any trouble. She couldn’t decide whether they would rather be put out of their misery or if they were happy as they were. But the alternative is that the mischief a werefox causes is like a drug. Once they start doing it, it’s hard to stop, and it takes hold like a disease. The devastation caused by a fox can escalate to something terrifying…you’ve all witnessed that with Void."

Stiles swallowed hard. It was an upsetting limit of choices. Either he was to remain stuck as a fox, or give in to the chaos-ensuing habits and become exactly like the Nogitsune. Luckily Scott asked the question Stiles was burning to blurt out.

"Isn’t there a happy medium? Could Stiles simply cause…just a little trouble and be able to shift back?" 

"That’s where the other information I have comes into play. Just like nogitsunes and kitsunes, there’s a nicer version of werefox than the one I just described. Apparently werefoxes are known for another unique trait that separates them from werewolves - they can heal."

"Yeah, I did that to Lydia just last night!" Stiles yapped.

"Stiles healed me last night." Lydia said. "I had a….an injury…" she didn’t want to explain how Stiles bit her in his panic attack, "…on my hand, and he healed it just by touching me."

"Really? Like your wound completely disappeared?" Scott asked in awe. "He didn’t just take pain away?"

"No…but when he healed me, his own injury’s pain intensified…"

"Which is why being a healer is a dangerous path for werefoxes." Chris explained. "Whatever pain they take in to heal, they suffer usually double the amount. Being a healer werefox is the equivalent of being a true alpha….it’s exceptionally rare."

Stiles looked over at Scott as if to say  _well there’s a true alpha standing in this room_ , but Scott said exactly what was on his mind in a more eloquent response.

"If I can become a true alpha, then I’m certain Stiles can become a healer."

Stiles yapped a “Thank you” to which Lydia translated.

"But what about right now?" Derek asked. "Stiles can’t shift back to being human right now, otherwise his stomach will split open. But the longer he stays like that, the harder it’ll be to change."

"That’s our main problem right now." Chris said. "Werefoxes are only supposed to fully shift for one night, and Stiles has been a fox for what…two days? Healing Lydia the other night will help prolong the instincts, but sooner or later he’s going to be consumed by the animal he is."

"So we need to have Stiles heal as quickly as possible so we can get him to shift back." Scott said, waiting for a response.

"And then what?" Isaac asked. "Are we all going to cut our hands so he can heal all of us and transform back in tremendous amounts of pain? Or is Stiles going to have to set someone’s house on fire to get some mischief in? I would volunteer my place, but I don’t have one."

"I don’t know." Scott turned to look at Stiles. "What would you rather try, to turn back?"

Stiles released a low whine. “I don’t like the sound of either option…but I’ve got to try the healing option…I can’t…I can’t go anywhere near trying to be like Void…I already know that darkness would control me.”

"Healing." Lydia said sadly. "He doesn’t want to risk any chances of being like Void."

"Maybe we can try you healing someone while I simultaneously take away your pain…maybe that would make it easier." Scott suggested.

"That might not work." Derek interjected. He turned towards Argent. "Wolves and foxes don’t get along, so that might only make matters worse."

"I’m not sure. All I know is that werefoxes avoid werewolves as if they were the plague, and I’m still not sure why exactly that is." Chris said. "It might simply be because werewolves can easily kill werefoxes on the full moon when they’re shifted into smaller creatures and werewolves have bloodthirst on their minds, but werefoxes, luckily, are extremely fast. So there might be an underlying reason as to why wolves and foxes can’t coexist. I’d tread lightly." 

Scott’s brows creased in worry. “I’m not going to accidentally kill Stiles, am I?”

"I’ve no idea. It’s a delicate piece of information we’re missing. I’d say that you, Derek, and Isaac need to be careful around Stiles. Malia on the other hand, I think she should be fine around him. Foxes and coyotes are both tricksters. Although coyotes are more like wolves in physicality, both in their stature and their hierarchy of alphas, they’re a lot more like foxes in spirit. But I’d still be cautious."

Lydia sighed. “So how do we help Stiles heal faster?”

"Does Deaton have anything to super charge him?" Isaac offered.

"He gave Stiles basic antibiotics to help it heal and prevent infection, but he said Stiles should heal at a supernatural pace and wouldn’t need any medical aid." Scott said.

"Well that was before we knew he needs to shift back to being human as quickly as possible." Derek said with a tilt of his head. "That, and Stiles doesn’t seem to heal as quickly as a werewolf. Why is that?"

"Werefoxes feed off of chaos, strife, and pain, just as nogitsunes." Chris explained. "They need that energy in order to heal, to shift, to do anything. Since Stiles hasn’t been causing mischief, he’s not healing at full capacity."

"That makes no sense." Stiles barked in frustration. "Shouldn’t healing someone count as taking their pain, and therefore that energy would help me heal in return?" Lydia relayed.

"That’s the paradox. Werefoxes can heal others around them, but they can never heal themselves. That’s why most werefoxes turn to inflicting pain instead of healing it. Werefoxes receive pleasure from the sufferings of others, but when they try to help others, all they receive in return is immense pain. It appears foxes can only be one of two things. Your worst nightmare, or your last saving grace."

"Lovely." Stiles whined. "I’m doomed to be maliciously evil or forever suffering unimaginable pain."

"I’m doomed to find dead bodies." Lydia remarked to try and lighten his mood.

"What?" Isaac asked, finding Lydia’s statement random..

"Stiles said he was… doomed to be evil or… what was it?" Malia cut in. "Forever suffer lots of pain. That’s the one."

"That sounds like Derek." Isaac mused. Derek whipped his head to raise his brows threateningly at the beta.

"You can understand him?" Lydia asked, her brows furrowed.

"Mostly." Malia said simply. "It must be because I was a coyote for eight years. That language is still kind of fresh to me." Stiles made a mental note that Malia would be able to understand him if Lydia weren’t around.

"How do werefoxes turn other people though? They don’t have alphas." Scott inquired.

“ _Any_  werefox has the ability to turn someone.” Chris answered. “But unlike werewolves, if the bite doesn’t turn someone, they don’t die. They just go mad for a couple of days. Werefoxes bite people all the time because it’s rare for the bite to take hold. Usually the only people who are turned are sociopaths.”

“ _That’s_  comforting.” Stiles yapped.

Lydia resisted the urge to say  _"well you kind of_ are _one”_  and instead muttered, “Or clever people.”

"But, like I said, I only know the bad parts about werefoxes. Most of the werefoxes Marissa dealt with that were trouble, were the turned sociopaths. There’s not much I know about the healer werefoxes."

"Well, we’ll have to find out for ourselves." Scott said with a faint smile.

"I’m sorry that’s all I know. I’ll keep you guys informed of anything more I can find out, and I’ll try to keep as many Argents away from Beacon Hills. I know some of them would have a field day if they found out a true alpha and a werefox were here."

"No, thank you, that’s a lot more than we knew before." Scott nodded his head towards Argent. "For now, let’s go to Deaton to see what he can do to help with Stiles’ injury."

 

 


	9. Vile Warning

A cold darkness shrouded Stiles’ heart, his instincts screaming to run towards the direction an invisible rope pulled him towards. As soon as someone opened the door to Derek’s loft, he sprung out of Lydia’s arms and hit the ground running at full speed. Scott and Derek began to chase after him, but Lydia stopped them.

"Wait! He might be in fox mode. Having a bunch of wolves chasing him won’t help any." 

"Lydia’s right." Derek sighed. "But why would he run off like that?"

"I’m not sure." Chris said, stepping forward. "But I’ll go with Lydia to see that he’s alright."

"That sounds good." Scott looked over at the werecoyote. "Malia, do you want to go with them?" He looked back at Chris. "She’d be able to help you track him down - he’s probably far away by now. And you said being a werecoyote wouldn’t scare Stiles as much."

"She shouldn’t. But I suppose we’ll find out."

 

 

»»««

 

 

Stiles could feel the darkness reeling him in as he blindly weaved through the trees and delved deeper in the forest. It was seeming vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint why it struck recognizable till he stopped a few feet away from the mysterious uniter of all things supernatural.

The Nemeton.

It wasn’t the tree stump that startled Stiles. Standing on top of its smooth surface was a black fox, it’s eyes blazing white with tendrils of dark smoke seeping from it’s body. The creature parted its jaws into a wicked grin as it spoke.

"Have you missed me, Stiles?"

Stiles stood there panting, catching his breath from the run, to stare at the creature with widened eyes. “V- _Void?!_  I thought we killed you!” 

"Mmmm what a pity." Void said, his velvet voice hauntingly indifferent. "It seems  _none_ of you heed  _any_  of the words I say. What did I tell you, Stiles? Mmm? I said we foxes fool everyone. I said you couldn’t beat me at my own game. I said you couldn’t kill me, I’m a thousand years old! Did you  _honestly_  think I was bluffing?”

Stiles was hesitant, his ears flattening nervously. “N-no….I didn’t think it could have been that easy…”

"Smart boy. Now that you’re a fox, just as I predicted, you can help me finish my work."

 _Just as you predicted?_  A cold shiver ran down Stiles’ spine as he realized it was the Nogitsune’s plan all along to have Scott bite him so Stiles would turn. In the end the fox spirit got exactly what he wanted, while everyone was lead to believe he was vanquished, that they outsmarted him. 

It seemed Stiles was still endangering the ones he loved.

"I’m not helping you with  _anything!_ " He growled.

"Oh no, you see, I’m not planning on possessing you this time round. You’ll come to help me of your own accord soon enough. Soon you’ll start biting people and ravaging chaos and you’ll find that you  _love_  it. At that point not even _I_  will be able to stop you.”

"You don’t know me. I’m nothing like you."

Void laughed, black smoke dripping from his open jaws, and the sound was so chilling that Stiles shuddered. “I know you better than you know yourself! I know about all those emotions you store away and pretend don’t exist. You’re a time bomb ready to explode, and I can’t wait to be there to witness the moment you completely  _lose it._ You’ve already bitten that beloved banshee of yours, so it’s only a matter of time before you become the fox you truly are.”

"Not all foxes are bad." Stiles defended.

"Oh yes, I’m sure you’ve heard of the healer foxes." Void took a few steps closer. "Let me remove any preconceived notions you may have concerning the more noble path for our kind.  _You will not survive_. Each full moon the pain will slowly kill you till you can heal no more, and you will remain a fox for the rest of your life. And once you’re stuck as a fox, I will possess you and make your body mine.” Void closed the gap so he was standing directly in front of Stiles, his white eyes hollow and lifeless.

"Besides…" Void cooed. "You’ve always been one to enjoy causing a little mischief…" The fox walked past Stiles, rubbing his head affectionately against his shoulder and swishing his tail against his chest as he left. The contact seeped a darkness into Stiles’ bones, his veins running hot with a spreading ecstasy. 

His limbs began trembling, and with a horrified realization, Stiles could feel himself shifting. He howled in pain as his joints buckled and his muscles began to stretch.

"The healing will not save you." Void said in his shadow. "It will only  _destroy_  you.”

 

 

»»««

 

 

Lydia, Chris, and Malia’s heads all whipped in the direction of the fox howl before looking at one another. “That can’t be good.” Lydia said warily. She was waiting for another scream to escape her lips, but the cold fear in her heart felt like something else entirely.

Malia ran in the direction of the noise, Chris and Lydia following shortly behind her. It wasn’t long before Malia halted to a stop at the sound of a blood-curling human scream. She looked back at Lydia in horror. “Was that…”

"I’m afraid so…" Lydia was terrified to see whatever lay beyond the ravine, but she pushed forward with the anxiety pulsing through her veins. She didn’t want to see Stiles in pain or dead, but she had to push forward if there was any chance of saving him.

The sight was not pretty. The three of them ran into the clearing where a naked Stiles lay on his side curled into the fetal position with his arms holding his stomach together. Blood was all over his skin and on the leaves beneath him. It was so overwhelming even Lydia could barely breathe from the stench. His breathing was erratic, and Lydia saw his claws and fangs were out, his eyes glowing teal in a frantic fear.

"Lyd- Lydia…don’t…" Stiles gasped, wincing.

"Shh, don’t talk. Just breathe, focus on breathing." She looked down at the damage to find he was literally holding himself together. She could see tendrils of flesh intertwined behind his arms, and despite all the crimson she could tell those were his intestines exposed raw. His arms were completely scarlet, thick trails of blood oozing out in streams cascading down his flesh. Luckily his arms covered up the worst of the injury, but Lydia could still see the ragged edges of layers of skin and muscle torn at the seams.

"Do you think you could carry him back to the loft?" Lydia asked Chris, her eyes pleading.

Before he could answer, Malia cut in. “I’ll carry him. I’m stronger than either of you.”

Stiles screamed again, and Lydia could feel him pulling the air out of her lungs, but she could barely breathe at the sight. Even if Stiles survived keeping all his organs inside of him, she wasn’t sure he could survive the immense loss of blood. He had blood trailing out of his mouth now, his labored breathing choking on the liquid in his throat.

As carefully as she could, Malia scooped up Stiles to carry him bridal style, eliciting another scream from his throat, although this time it was weaker. His claws embedded into the sides of his torso to keep himself together as the scarlet dripped down his sides in a haunting promise of death.

"The two of you hurry as fast as you can, I’ll call Scott to get Melissa or Deaton." Lydia said the words so quickly she thought she might faint. Malia and Chris nodded, running off back to the loft, an occasional anguished cry coming from Stiles. Lydia fumbled out her phone, her fingers shaking as she called Derek since he was quicker to find in her contacts.

"Derek- Derek, it’s Stiles. He-he shifted, and he’s barely holding his innards all together." She gasped for breath, trying to steady her breathing.

"Do we need to come over there?"

"No, no, Malia and Chris are bringing him over but- we need Deaton, or Melissa, someone who can do emergency surgery right  _now._ ”

"I’ll get that taken care of. Lydia, he’s going to be alright. I’ll make sure of that."

Lydia released a small exhale as she slumped down onto the ground, her knees brought to her chest as she tried to calm her breathing. She was glad Derek could read the meaning behind her words, since she couldn’t bring herself to say that Stiles would die if they didn’t do something immediately. She felt awful, but deep down she knew she couldn’t handle going back to the loft. She couldn’t handle the sight of Stiles barely alive, the fear in his eyes nearly dead.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up, her brows furrowing curiously as she turned around to find the Nemeton.  _Why was Stiles lead here? Did the tree cause him to transform?_  She reached out a hand to touch the smooth top of the stump, seeing and feeling nothing out of the ordinary.

A fear trembled down her spine, and she suddenly felt a wave of freezing anxiety wash over her skin. She looked around the forest, expecting to find something watching her, but she couldn’t find anything. A voice crept into her mind, and although it was the sound of Stiles, the words were not from him.

_What are the voices telling you? Are they saying that Stiles is dying? He is, you know. He’s dying._

Lydia remained still, hoping she just imagined it as she listened to the silence. To her dismay, her lungs became heavy and the voice continued echoing through the stillness of the forest.

_Are you as good at riddles as Stiles, Lydia? What begins and has no end and is the ending of all that begins?_

"I’m not going to answer you." Lydia said softly. She heard a scream from Stiles in the distance, causing her eyes to look sadly in the direction where the sound came.

_You will, in one way or another. A nightmare for some, for others, as a savior it comes. What is it, Lydia?_

"I don’t know…"

_I am always around, but never seen. I am often avoided, but you can’t outrun me. I come in many forms of emotional state, whether it’s irony, love, laughter, or hate._

"I don’t- I’m not going to play your games!"

_You know the answer, Lydia. These riddles are merely different forms of what you live and breathe, of what you are…_

"Death." Lydia said softly, her hands trembling. "The answer is death."

_Very good. Do you think Stiles will figure out that riddle before it comes knocking on his door?_

She didn’t want to talk about Stiles dying to a psychotic fox spirit. “What’d you do to him? Why would you want to kill him?”

_Oh, I’m flattered, but don’t give me all the credit. I’m not the one killing him. He’s doing that to himself._

Lydia wished she could see the fox, but at the same time she was glad she couldn’t. The disembodied voice ringing through the forest wasn’t that great of an alternative though. “What do you mean he’s killing himself? He’s doing all he can to hold himself together.”

_Not exactly. He’s trying to keep himself from being the monster he truly is. He can’t kill off the monster without killing himself._

"He’s nothing like you. He will  _never_  be you.”

_Fascinating, he said the same exact thing. The longer he denies what he truly is, the sooner he’ll destroy himself, and then he will be mine. What will you do then, banshee?_

Lydia’s eyes burned. If she could manifest the fox physically, she would like nothing more than to punch it’s sorry snout. “I’ll  _scream_.” She said bitterly. “But one of these days it will be  _your_  name I’ll be screaming.” She began to walk away, but the voice gave her a final word of sentiment before leaving the area.

_I gladly await that day of reckoning._

 

 


	10. Torn Apart

Stiles was fairly certain the pain would kill him long before the rip in his stomach ever could.

He never knew pain could feel so  _heavy_. While he felt there was a gaping hole in his stomach, the rest of his body felt as if it were pumped full of iron, his veins weighed down with lead. He wouldn’t be able to move if his life depended on it. He was glad his claws were sunk into his sides to anchor his arms in position, to literally prevent himself from spilling. 

His vision began to fail him, and he knew that was a sign progressing towards death. The last sense to go was hearing, so he focused on the sounds around him, he focused on the beating of his heart because he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be able to for much longer. He listened to the voices around him as he tried to avoid any focus on feeling.

_"Shit - that’s worse than I thought."_

_"Did someone call Melissa or Deaton?"_

_"My mom’s on her way…oh my god Stiles…"_

_"What about Deaton?"_

_"I’m already here, if you could set him on the table."_

_"That’s a lot of blood."_

_"Shouldn’t we give him something to knock him out?"_

_"He’ll heal better if he’s awake. I can only give him something to help with the pain."_

_"How long till Melissa gets here?"_

_"She should be here in a few minutes. Stiles… stay with me…"_

His eyes flared open as he jolted upon the table, Stiles looked over at Scott in alarm, triangular fox ears perked on top of his head. “Scott…” He coughed out some blood before screaming behind gritted teeth, his back arching before collapsing once again. 

"Don’t take away his pain, Scott." Derek cut in. "You’re making him transform again." 

Scott looked wounded as he shifted his gaze from Derek to Stiles. “I can’t help him at all…”

Stiles heaved for breath, his eyelids heavy as he focused his attention back to Scott. “Lyd- Lydia….Scott….find… Lydia…”

"Where’s Lydia? Wasn’t she with you two?" Scott looked back and forth between Chris and Malia.

"Void… _Void!”_  Stiles panted before closing his eyes and sinking back into his half-dead state where he only listened and focused on breathing.

"Void??" Scott looked at Stiles with wide eyes, jaw gaping slightly. Lydia entered the loft before he could question it any further, her expression scared. She looked at Stiles on the table warily, her arms crossed as if she were cold.

"Lydia, are you alright?" Scott rushed over to her and held her by the shoulders. She looked frightened, and if what Stiles was saying made any sense, Lydia could have been a lot worse than merely scared.

"I’m…fine. We didn’t kill Void though. He’s still out there." 

Scott’s eyebrows creased, his face crestfallen. Melissa entered the building in a rush of speed, diverting everyone’s attention to her as she hastily began pulling out equipment. “Scott, can you get the rest out of my car?”

"My god, this is a lot worse than what Scott said." She turned to the veterinarian as she set up a lamp to illuminate the dark crimson across Stiles. "What have you given him?"

"Fentanyl and vecuronium." Deaton answered as he took the IV Scott brought in and began setting up the catheter.

"Stick the IV in his subclavian vein. His arms aren’t an option right now." Melissa ordered as she handed the vet blue gloves to put on. She pulled on her own pair and a face mask before assessing the damage. "This is going to require three pairs of hands."

"Werewolves can’t help us on this one. Taking away Stiles’ pain causes him to shift." Deaton explained.

Melissa huffed. “Why is everyone in here a werewolf? Chris and Lydia, that means one of you need to help.”

Chris looked over at Lydia with a sympathetic glance. “I’ll help. I don’t think Lydia wants to see her friend like that.” Lydia softly shook her head as Chris walked over to the table to put on gloves and a mask.

"Alright, Chris, you’re going to have to move his arms while I secure his intestines. Deaton, your job is to then pull his skin together while I put him back together. Understand?" 

"Yes." Chris and Deaton answered as Chris began lifting Stiles’ left arm slowly. Stiles let out a muffled whimper, his breathing coming in sharp through his nose. Scott rushed over to stand by his head, careful not to touch him.

"Stiles, you’re going to be alright. Just… focus on my voice. Don’t think about the pain, think about…about…something else. Something happy. I’m really not good at this. Just, listen to my heartbeat. Focus on that, it’ll distract your other senses. You even have fox ears now, which….I don’t know if that makes it easier, but just…listen. Listen to  _me_. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles could focus on only the sense of hearing fairly well, but as soon as he heard Melissa’s surgical commands, he was reminded of the sense of touch, and the disturbingly distinct feeling of having hands moving around inside of him. Although the muscle deadening drugs were mostly doing the trick, apparently he needed a heavier dosage being a werefox because he could move slightly. The heavy feeling of death was still in his bones, but he could make minuscule movements of his head.

His eyebrows twitched in pain, he teeth grinded so hard he was afraid they would crack. He felt his right hand slowly move away from his torso, and although he could feel like he could breathe better, he felt even more torn apart. He could feel the cool air against the raw walls of his inner organs, and his skin suddenly submerged into a freezing state of asphyxiation. He felt like he could barely breathe, and that if he dared take a lung full of air, his stomach would only tear further asunder.

His jaw parted to let out a weak exhale, his rib cage lying as still as death itself. Stiles was in so much pain that he looked peaceful, and it scared Scott out of his wits.

"Stiles? Stiles! Mom, I think he’s stopped breathing."

"If you know how to install an oxygen mask, do so now." Melissa said fervently yet calmly. Lydia rushed over to help Scott as he pulled out the oxygen mask and tank from his mom’s bag. After Scott placed the mask over Stiles’ mouth, Lydia made sure the gauges were set correctly and that the oxygen was flowing properly. After a couple of agonizing seconds, Stiles began breathing again, eliciting a weak exhale from both Lydia and Scott. 

Lydia tried not to look at the crimson mess of surgery in his abdominal region, but focused instead on his face. She began idly stroking his head to somehow calm him, her sad eyes watering at the sight of so much tension held in his face. 

She wondered how much he could feel, and hoped he could focus on the contact of her hands instead of Melissa’s. 

"I’m going to have to remove this section of intestine." 

“ _What??_ " Lydia whipped her head towards Melissa, instantly regretting it when she saw her holding out a crimson piece of Stiles’ innards, glistening in the light from the lamp. 

"Lydia, make sure he stays grounded. You’re the only one who can comfort him right now." Deaton instructed.

The strawberry blonde nodded, gasping sharply when she saw the silver scalpel moving among the mess of scarlet. She held Stiles’ face with both her hands, wiping away the tears that fell down the sides of his cheeks. “Stiles,  _you can do this_. You are strong enough to handle this.”

A weak moan escaped his lips before he let out a strained yell of agony. Lydia looked at him in worry, wondering if the fentanyl wasn’t doing anything to help ease the pain. Before she could suggest anything, Scott’s hand shot next to Lydia’s, his veins instantly running dark as he absorbed Stiles’ suffering.

Lydia shot a look. “Scott! Stop it!”

Stiles opened his eyes and breathed in deeply, but Derek rushed over and pulled off Scott’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

"I’m trying to help! He’s in pain and it’s _all my fault!_ ”

"He’s going to be in a hell of a lot more pain if  _he turns into a damn fox while he’s having surgery done!_ ”

"I wasn’t going to do it for long, I just wanted that moment to be more bearable." Scott looked up at the older werewolf with a pleading in his eyes. "I couldn’t just stand here and do nothing!"

Derek’s eyes softened as he released his grip on the alpha. “Just don’t do it again. We can’t jeopardize him while he’s in the middle of surgery.”

Stiles let out a soft moan that sounded more like a whine as he shut his eyes and breathed laboriously. Lydia continued tenderly stroking his head as tears dripped off her face.

Stiles could feel most of the surgery, but what hurt most was listening to the soft sobs from Lydia and Scott as they were powerless to help him.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Is he going to be ok?" Scott asked his mother tentatively after the surgery was completed and Stiles was properly cleaned and bandaged up. They moved him to one of Derek’s couches, covered in blankets with the IV and oxygen tank at his side. Lydia had pushed two couches together to create a make-shift bed so she could sit next to him and hold his hand.

"He should be fine, Scott." Melissa placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. "I’m limited with what I can do to help him since we can’t exactly take him into the hospital, but being supernatural now he should be able to heal quickly, right?"

Everyone gave Melissa a distraught expression. “We’re not so sure.” Derek explained. “Apparently werefoxes don’t heal like werewolves do. But from what Scott and Lydia have told me, Stiles still seems to heal faster than humans.”

"Does the Sheriff know about what’s happened?" Melissa asked.

"I called him while you were operating on him." Derek remarked. "He said he’d be here as soon as he could." 

"Good. I have to run back to work - I told them I was taking my lunch break. Deaton, as soon as Stilinski gets here, make sure he donates Stiles some blood." She turned to pull Scott into a tight hug. "He’ll be fine, Scott. He’s got great friends to help pull him through this." She pulled away and smiled at him before grabbing her bag and leaving.

Scott sighed as he watched his mother leave. He looked over at Stiles and Lydia with a devastation in his eyes.

 

 


	11. Dysfunction

"Uuuuggghhhhh…..how many rabbits did I eat?"

Lydia lowered her brows as she stared at Stiles. “You didn’t eat any rabbits. All you’ve had in the past few hours is water, dextrose, sodium chloride, and potassium.” 

Stiles blinked groggily a few times before narrowing his eyes questioningly at the strawberry blonde. “Wha?”

"Intravenous rehydration. You have an IV in you."

Stiles horrifyingly looked down, pulling down the blanket to reveal a giant needle in the left side of his chest. “Oh god…” He pulled the blanket back up to his neck. “I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see that.” He laid his head back down and released a low exhale. 

"Good thing you were out when your dad gave you blood." Lydia remarked with a raise of her eyebrows.

"When my dad what?"

"Your dad stopped by and donated some of his blood to you. You kind of….lost… _a lot_.” Lydia looked like she was going to faint just at the remembrance of the scene, and Stiles couldn’t help but wonder how much he bled out.

"How are you feeling?" Scott’s voice approached the couches, and Stiles saw his friend hovering right above his head. 

Stiles made a noise that sounded like half a laugh and half a whine. “I feel like I just had my guts ripped out. Kind of did.” He released a drawn out moan. “Supernatural sense of touch sucks.” 

"On a scale of one to ten, how much more bearable is it than if you were human?" Scott asked. "I mean, it doesn’t hurt as much now that you’re a werefox, right?"

"Debatable." Stiles muttered. "Probably a four. Yeah, I can handle the pain better than if I were human, but that doesn’t mean I feel the pain any less. Speaking of which." He looked up at Scott with a questioning gaze, his ears perked up. "Did you try taking away my pain again? I have a tail."

Scott frowned guiltily. “My mom was cutting out part of your intestine. I wanted to help. It seemed like you could feel everything as it happened, which I know usually isn’t supposed to happen during surgery.”

"Yeah well apparently I need more drugs than normal people. It’s fine, Scott." Stiles said with a flick of his ears. "I don’t mind, it’s just…. weird. I don’t really notice the ears, but…the tail is kind of troublesome. Especially when I’m laying on my back."

"I bet…do you know how to get rid of them?"

Stiles scoffed. “Hell if I know.”

"Wait, how did you shift back to being human in the first place?" Lydia asked. "It wasn’t the Nemeton, was it?"

"The Nemeton?" Scott inquired.

"No, it wasn’t that." Stiles said. "It was…it was when Void touched me. He rubbed up against me and it transferred this energy…I’m guessing it was chaos that made me shift…"

"Void gave you some chaos?"

"And he was right, it’s like a drug. Because the worst part is, I  _liked_  it. Until…I started shifting and ripping myself apart, that is. I had barely enough time after my arms shifted back to keep my organs from falling out. Although I ended up twisting part of my intestine.” He turned his head to face Lydia. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

"No…" She said softly, blinking a few times. "He just threatened me."

"Yeah, he likes doing that." Stiles grumbled. He returned his eyes up towards Scott. "Void knew all along. He knew what shape I was. Having you bite him was his plan from the start, so that I would turn and help him in his malicious plots."

Scott was silent a moment as he let that sink in, but it was Lydia who spoke first. “What? He knew all -” She fumed, scrunching up her face as if she were holding back a scream. “That means we did  _exactly_  what he wanted! That means we’ve been nothing but pawns this whole time!”

"Join the club." Stiles muttered dryly.

"He was right…foxes fool everyone…" Scott said sadly. Stiles looked up at his friend with creased eyebrows, his ears drooping slightly. 

"Hey… _I_  won’t. I don’t care how much pain being a healer will surmount to. I will never hurt you like that again, Scott.”

"That wasn’t you, Stiles."

"Yeah, but I still remember it. I still lived in that moment when I hurt you. And it’s never going to happen again. I was ready to die to save everyone from the Nogitsune, and if I end up dying as a healer to protect you all from myself, then so be it. I’ve already come to terms with that fate."

"I won’t let you die, Stiles. I told you I would do something. I’m still holding myself to that promise."

Stiles wanted to say that it was out of Scott’s control this time round, since his friend couldn’t even touch him, but he just smiled weakly. He hated to be the bringer of bad news when he was the one laying on his death bed. 

"Thank you, Scott."

 

 

»»««  
  


 

 

"How did I get pants on?" Stiles asked to no one in particular.

Scott and Lydia were sitting on the couch opposite of Stiles in the couch boat, while Isaac and Malia sat on the ground close by. The pack decided to work on homework together since it was a necessary evil and no one wanted to leave Stiles alone.

"Derek lent you a pair." Scott finally said when no one wanted to answer.

"Does that mean everyone saw me naked?" 

The silence became even more awkward as everyone darted their eyes between each other.

"I didn’t." Isaac said plainly, raising a hand without lifting his gaze from his algebra textbook.

"Don’t worry about it, Stiles." Lydia retorted as she wrote down notes without looking up. "I’ve seen plenty of male anatomy. And I don’t think Malia is bothered by nudity."

"Clothes aren’t necessary in the animal kingdom." She answered from the floor below. 

"Point proven. Besides, I think everyone was focusing on the hole in your stomach. Or…trying to  _not_  focus on the hole in your stomach…”

Stiles sighed. “ _I’m_  still trying to not focus on the hole in my stomach.” He lifted the blanket to look underneath. Black tracks of different patterns weaved across his abdomen in intersecting paths to form something that resembled an urban map of downtown streets. “God….did your mom use a whole spool of stitching thread? I didn’t even know stitches could look this complex…”

"It took her and Deaton almost an hour to fix you up." Scott remarked. "It felt like a lot longer than that though."

Stiles laughed darkly. “You don’t say.” He sighed, closing his eyes and focusing on the sounds of textbook pages turning and pens scribbling against notebook paper. Sometimes he liked the supernatural sense of hearing, because it allowed him to zone out and hone in on such a specific thing that it distracted him from the pain, if only for a while.

"How do you guys understand this stuff? I can’t even read this." Malia blurted out.

"Wait, you too?" Isaac asked.

"Wait, you guys are seeing the letters in the wrong order too?" Scott’s voice was alarmed.

"Stiles." Lydia said sharply to get his attention. He turned his head to look at her, but when he opened his eyes they were glowing.

"Yeah?"

Lydia narrowed her eyes. “Can you read this?” She flipped her notebook out to face him. Stiles squinted at the notes before replying.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Stop whatever it is you’re doing." 

"What? I’m not doing anything."

"None of us can read right now. And your eyes are glowing." 

Stiles looked at her completely baffled, his ears slowly rotating backwards in denial. “But I’m not doing…” He inhaled sharply as a warmth spread through his hands, and he brought his arms out from under the blanket to find his veins were running black all along his forearms. “What am I doing?”

"I don’t know, Stiles, but somehow you’re causing chaos and you’re feeding off of it." Scott remarked, looking down at the mess of letters in his textbook before returning his gaze to his friend.

"I don’t know how to stop it. I can’t control it." His arms began to increase in darkness, his fingers slowly burning black.

Lydia suddenly leaned forward and grabbed his right hand, instantly groaning as her veins turned black and Stiles’ right arm solidified in its darkness. Releasing her hands sharply as if he had shocked her, Lydia looked at Stiles with startled eyes. His arms slowly regained their normal complexion and his eyes faded into their usual warm brown.

"What just happened?" Stiles asked.

"I can read again." Isaac remarked.

"I think…I think you just cast an illusion on all of us, Stiles." Lydia said softly, her troubled gaze shifting between Stiles and her notes.

"Wait, an illusion?" Malia asked. "So all of us not being able to read never actually happened, we just thought it happened? Our minds just all played a trick on us?"

Stiles swallowed hard. “Just like the Nogitsune.”

"And you fed off of Lydia." Scott said softly. "Was that enough to make it stop?"

"I….I don’t know." Stiles breathed, his lungs heavy. "I was just trying to focus on something other than the pain…and I’ve no idea how that happened. But I…" His eyes narrowed in confusion. "I feel so much  _better._ ”

He slowly sat up and began cautiously running his fingertips along his stitches as his tail moved into a more comfortable curve. With a sharp gasp, he looked up at Scott and Lydia with wide eyes.

"My intestines don’t hurt anymore. I don’t feel any pain there." 

"The chaos healed you dramatically." Scott said in awe as he looked at Stiles as if he just performed a miracle. "How much better do you feel?"

"Just the intestine part feels better. I still feel like death in every other aspect. Especially the hunger part." He let out a low whine and was slightly surprised at the sound of it. "IV’s suck."

Scott was conflicted on telling Stiles to never do whatever he did ever again, and encouraging him to do whatever he did again. It was healing him, saving him, but he remembered the warning that the chaos was like a drug, and it would turn Stiles into something neither of them wanted to see him become.

"So Stiles can do magic now?" Malia asked with an arched brow.

"It’s probably just whatever the Nogitsune could do." Isaac pointed out. "Chris did say that werefoxes were more like nogitsunes than kitsunes. So maybe Stiles can cause illusions and whatnot? Screw with peoples’ minds, basically?"

"Basically." Stiles said bitterly, more to himself than to Isaac. He looked over at Lydia who was nervously eyeing the stitches on his stomach. "Hey, you alright?"

After a moment she raised her green eyes to meet his, blinking a few times before nodding slowly. “Yeah…touching you felt like the right thing to do in that moment.”

"Did it hurt?"

"Not…not really. It just felt like you were draining something out of me, which was…terrifying, at first, but then I was fine afterwords." 

"I’m sorry." His voice was quiet. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know, Stiles." Lydia offered him a faint smile. "I know."

 

 


	12. Foxes Are Confusing

"You know who might know more about werefoxes?" Scott asked after a long stretch of silent studying.

"Hmm?" Stiles asked absent minded, opening one eye to look at him.

"Kira. Or at least her mother. She knew an awful lot about Void."

"You’re probably right." Malia said. "Who better to ask about foxes than another fox?"

Scott was silent a moment with a pensive expression. “I’ll go visit Kira and see what she can do to help.”

"I’m coming with you." Stiles said abruptly as he sat up.

"Stiles, you have an IV in you."

"Yeah but I’m feeling better." He said with wistful eyes. He pulled his shoulders back and sat up straighter, offering Scott a foreboding glance. "You can’t stop me."

"Sure I can." Scott held out a hand close to Stiles’ knee, his face mischievous. "I can give you fox paws."

"Hey, you can’t threaten with forced transformation! That’s not fair!"

"Sorry bro, but you need to stay here and rest." Scott climbed out of the couch boat and headed towards the door. "I’ll be back later."

Stiles slowly laid back down, huffing out a despondent sigh. “Can we order a pizza?”

"Sure, but you’re not getting any." Lydia remarked.

"I really hate animal traps."

 

 

»»««

 

 

Scott was nervous about seeing Kira since he hadn’t seen or talked to her since the night they fought the Nogitsune. She probably didn’t even know what Stiles was now, unless someone else told her. Scott felt guilty for ignoring her for so long, but it was hard dealing with Stiles let alone mourning Allison’s death. But now that things were even more complicated and Void was still in Beacon Hills, Scott realized something that made the visit all the more easier.

He needed Kira now more than ever.

"Hey." He greeted quietly when she opened the front door.

She stared at him for a moment before returning a soft “Hey.”

"We need to talk." Scott said slowly, as if he were uncertain those were the right words to say.

Kira blinked a few times. “Okay. Umm.” She paused for a moment before smiling nervously. “Do-do you want to come in?”

 Scott returned the smile. “Yeah. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

As Kira lead Scott into her house, he spoke as they ascended the stairs. ”First I want to apologize for completely ignoring you.” Scott followed her into her room. “I shouldn’t have shut you out like that.”

"Scott. It’s  _fine_.” Kira sat down on the floor cross-legged, and Scott followed suit. “You were grieving. I get it. You just needed some space, and I know what that’s like.”

"I still feel bad. It’s just…been a lot to soak in the past couple of days."

"I bet…" Kira’s eyes lowered for a moment before looking at Scott sadly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not exactly, but there is something I need to talk to you about. And I need your help." 

 

 

»»««

 

 

"How am I supposed to even control something I don’t even know I’m capable of or is physically possible?" Stiles asked, his face confounded.

"Maybe you just need to concentrate hard enough." Malia suggested. "Kind of how I can be really strong if I just concentrate on that."

"But how can I concentrate on what I need to control if I can’t control what I need to concentrate on when I’m concentrating on trying to understand what it is I can control?"

The four of them were silent a moment.

"What you said made no sense." Isaac asked.

"None of this is making any sense.” Stiles defended. “I hope Kira has some answers. Foxes are confusing.”

"I think that’s kind of the point." Lydia muttered.

"The great irony. I’m causing strife in myself and I can’t even feed off of that." He growled.

Scott and Kira entered just then, and Kira couldn’t stop from smiling at everyone. When she saw Stiles, her jaw gaped slightly as she walked up to him and held his ears with her hands.

Stiles made a noise at the back of his throat. “Hi Kira.”

"Oh! Sorry." She thrust her hands behind her back, her cheeks running red. "They’re just so…"

Stiles raised an eyebrow, one ear lowering slightly.

Kira looked uncertain whether she should continue. “…cute.”

Stiles dramatically groaned. “She can’t see my tail.”

"You have a tail??"

Stiles gave her a deadpan look.

"Sorry. Let’s start that over. Hi, Stiles. How are you feeling?"

Stiles barked a laugh. “I’m doing great, Kira. Just…healing from a torn up abdomen and getting used to being part animal.” The sarcasm was dripping heavily. “It’s lots of fun. At least I’m getting kind of used to giant needles sticking out of me.” He glanced down at the IV and released an exasperated sigh. “How about you?”

"Oh, I’m. Good. Great. Definitely not having to adjust to anything as dramatic as you." Kira blurted with a sad smile. "But! My mom told Scott and I some things I think you’d like to learn about."

Stiles patted part of the couch to indicate for her to sit. “Join the couch boat.”

Isaac and Malia stood up at that moment, both of them idly looking between the group and back to each other. Finally Isaac spoke. “We - the two of us - are going to go get some food. We didn’t want to torture Stiles with the smell. So. Carry on.”

After they left, Lydia said teasingly, “Somebody’s got a daaaate.”

"Why do you say that?" Scott asked.

"Because otherwise they would have invited meeee."

"It’s ok Lydia. I’ll take you out for food." Stiles said reassuringly.

Lydia arched a brow at him, grazing her eyes up and down. “Even without the fox parts you’re half dead right now, Stiles. I don’t think you’re taking me anywhere.”

"Stop crushing all my hopes and dreams."

Scott and Kira climbed into the couch boat, Kira situating herself at Stiles’ feet while Scott sat across from him next to Lydia, where he’d be less likely to accidentally touch him. Stiles partially sat up, his knees bent closer to his chest so Kira could fit. She couldn’t stop staring at Stiles’ ears, and he wondered if she could tell they were burning red from embarrassment. 

"So what did you guys learn?"

"Basically, that what you usually hear about kitsune in legend  _actually_  applies to werefoxes.” Kira explained. “Kitsune don’t shift. Werefoxes do, both partially and fully, and werefoxes are actually so infamous for their shifting that the legends say they are actually foxes assuming a human shape, when it’s more the other way around. Werefoxes can also shift whenever they please, it’s not tied strictly to the phase of the moon.”

"Will I get any more tails?" Stiles asked warily, his red, black, and white tail swishing out for him to look down at before returning his attention to Kira with creased brows.

She laughed, glancing down at his new appendage before answering. “No, the multiple tails part is strictly a kitsune thing. Although, they’re not actual tails, they’re more like the kitsune myth of star balls. My mom’s tails were in the form of knives, while mine are shuriken. Basically they just store our power. Werefoxes only have the one tail as far as I know.”

"Ok good. I don’t think I could handle more than five limbs." Stiles let out a low sigh that turned into a whine at the end. He made a face, ears pinning back.

"When I explained to Kira’s mom about the illusion you cast earlier, she said that wasn’t all werefoxes were capable of." Scott explained. "She said that werefoxes specialized in mental abilities."

"Mental abilities?" Stiles arched a brow.

"In mythology it says that foxes possess infinite wisdom and supreme intelligence," Kira said, "and although that’s not exactly true, it’s not far from the mark. Because werefoxes can use the ability of illusion, dream manipulation, telekinesis, telepathy, and even mind control."

Stiles couldn’t keep his jaw from hanging wide open.

"Well that sounds like everything Void could do." Lydia piped in. "He definitely used illusion, dream manipulation, and mind control against you. Probably telepathy too. The telekinesis is new, however."

"Stiles are you alright?" Kira asked.

"Yeah yeah yeah….I’m just trying to wrap my brain around the idea that I could be like Professor X. Shit, I could use the  _force_.”

"The force?" Scott asked.

Stiles stared at his friend with a sadness in his eyes. “You really need to watch Star Wars, man.”

"But Stiles probably needs to feed on chaos in order to achieve any of those abilities, right?" Lydia asked.

"Probably…" Kira said slowly. "My mom didn’t know all the technicalities on their abilities. But basically, kitsune specialize in using foxfire tied to their element. For me that would be lightning. Werefoxes though, specialize in shifting and mental power." 

"Huh." Stiles looked down at his hands as if they were completely different. He remembered when they turned black and he felt whole and unstoppable. He clenched his fists and looked up at Scott. "Did you learn anything about the blackness that was on my arms?"

"Oh, yeah." Scott started. "Kira’s mom said that when a werefox uses their powers, their arms slowly turn black to reflect their fox form. Whenever you feed off of lots of chaos your arms will turn black as well. She also warned that werefoxes have a trigger reflex to shift. Which means you’ll have to get the ears and tail under control otherwise they’ll make an appearance any time you feed off of pain. Or… whenever touched by a werewolf." Scott said sadly.

"Even when you’re not taking away pain?"

Scott nodded slowly. “I can’t ever hug you without your ears or tail coming out.”

Stiles swallowed hard. “I guess that eliminates our cuddling time on the park benches.” He joked. “Good thing Lydia and Kira aren’t werewolves. Yeesh.”

"Oh, but a good thing about having ears and a tail is that you’re in better control of your abilities." Kira said enthusiastically. "My mom said that werefoxes can more easily absorb energy, heal, and manipulate the further they’re shifted. So if you need to heal someone, you’ll do a much better job as a fox than a human. And still better with ears and a tail than as a human."

"So if any supernatural showdowns are happening, I’m better off to have the fox parts or just become a fox entirely." 

"Sounds like it." Scott said. "So whatever you’re doing to keep your ears and tail, keep doing it, because that means you’ll probably heal faster….Stiles?" Scott looked at his friend quizzically. Stiles had his eyes closed with a pleasant smile on his face, a strange half whining half purring noise coming from his throat. Scott and Lydia slowly turned their heads from Stiles to Kira, who was petting his tail.

"Sorry. Sorry." She released her hands guiltily before shoving them in her lap. "I’m sorry I can’t help it."

Stiles let out a small huff, opening his eyes again. “It…oddly felt nice though.” He said with an affirmative swish of his tail. He sat up all the way, folding his legs into a pretzel and moving his tail to lay behind him, but as he adjusted, the blanket that was covering him fell into his lap to expose his stomach.

Kira’s eyes widened. “Oh my goodness….” She looked up at Stiles, but her gaze kept flickering down to the mess of black lines. “That’s…that’s really really bad.”

Stiles looked down at himself as if he forgot it was there. “I promise you, it feels worse.”

"Well would…would petting you make you feel better?" 

"You just want to touch my velvet ears again, don’t you?" Stiles asked with a smirk. 

Kira looked guilty, raising her shoulders. “Kind of? But, I want you to feel better, more than that. Because Scott can’t take away your pain and you don’t exactly want to cause chaos…so I figured the next best thing is to channel your inner fox which will help you heal faster.”

"Wait, it would help me heal faster? Not just make me feel better?"

"I think so. My mom said that werefoxes get more benefit with all their supernatural abilities the more attuned they are with their fox. And that includes healing. Werefoxes don’t just heal incredibly fast like werewolves do. The more human you are, the more human paced your healing will be."

Stiles frowned in thought. 

"Well it’s like when you were stuck as a fox." Lydia said. "I was petting you while you rested and you healed quite fast. Your leg injury was gone in less than a day, and that was pretty gruesome." 

"You’re right." Stiles mused. "Looking back at it, I healed a lot faster when I was a fox. Course, I healed even faster when I kind of cast an illusion on all of you and sucked all of your strife, but…I don’t want to do that again." He looked up at Kira with a defeated expression. "You just… can’t talk to me in that voice that people use when they talk to dogs or cats or babies, alright?"

Kira’s eyes lit up. “Ok!” 

He threw a pillow at her lap, then slowly lowered himself down to rest his head in Kira’s lap. He closed his eyes and curled up in a fetal position as Kira began stroking his hair and ears. Stiles hummed happily, his ears completely relaxing. 

"They’re so soft." Kira whispered to Lydia with a smile. 

"I can hear you." Stiles muttered groggily before resuming the occasional happy noise.

Lydia laughed softly as she looked down at the white-tipped tail that kept softly flicking against her legs, her lips pulling into a faint smile.

 

 


	13. The Death Value

Stiles was overjoyed to get the IV out of his body two days later, and that he healed enough so that walking was doable once again. The full moon was in a few days, and he couldn’t risk ripping his stitches again. He needed to fully heal.

When Lydia burst into his house overly agitated, he figured healing in a few days wouldn’t be a problem. His veins already started to darken.

"Lydia - I can feed off of your strife before you even reached the kitchen. What’s going on?" 

"We have a couple of problems." She breathed.

"I gathered as much." He said with a flick of his ears. "No one’s dead, right?"

"That’s our problem. A handful of supernatural people have died in the past few days."

"No one we knew, right?" Stiles asked worriedly.

"No, a few werewolves none of us had heard of, and a family of wendigos. And there’s this guy without a mouth, who Derek says is a Mute, going around killing these people."

"Wait, we had wendigos in Beacon Hills?" Stiles furrowed his brows.

"Oh don’t act all surprised Mr. rare-supernatural-breed-of-werefox." Lydia rolled her eyes. "Oh and Scott bit a kid named Liam."

"Scott  _what?!_ ”

"A wendigo was attacking Scott and Liam, and in order to keep Liam from falling off the roof of the hospital he had to bite his wrist."

"Greeeat. Tell me there’s some good news in all of this." He said as he looked down at his arms, the blackness starting to inch past his wrists.

"Liam’s an IED."

"That’s not good news, Lydia." Stiles spat. "That makes him a walking time bomb. With, werewolf powers. What are we going to do with this kid in a few days when the full moon is here??"

"I have a lakehouse. We were planning on going there, both for Malia and Liam. This will be Malia’s first full moon since Scott changed her back, so we’re expecting it to be kind of rough." She looked at him with concern. "It’ll be your first too. Although you just turn into a fox, you don’t go all bloodthirsty. Do you think you’ll be able to shift out of it?"

Stiles scoffed, raising his arms which were fully black now. “I don’t think shifting back will be a problem this time. Especially since this is also helping me heal before that time comes.” He lifted his shirt to look at his abdomen which was no longer red and inflamed. He looked up at Lydia. “I should be fine. I just gotta figure out how to get rid of these.” He pointed to his ears. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”

"I…I’ve done something, as a banshee, and I’m not sure exactly what it is, but I think it’ll help us somehow. And I need your help." She sat on a stool next to Stiles at the counter, pulling out her laptop and showing Stiles a screen that asked for a passcode.

Stiles spun around in his seat to look at the screen, propping his chin on his hand. After a moment of staring at it, he glanced over at Lydia. “Whaaat is it?”

She pulled up a different window to reveal a notepad full of gibberish. “I wrote this down in one of my notebooks. Malia said my math notes didn’t make any sense, but when Isaac brought them to me, I realized that….it was code.” She returned back to the screen asking for a passcode.

"So it needs a passcode in order for us to see what the code actually is?" Stiles inquired.

"I believe so. And I’ve no idea what it could be. I’ve tried all kinds of words, I’ve even tried some passcode breakers, and nothing."

"Well you learned about the code through your banshee abilities…so maybe it has something to do with being a banshee?"

Lydia remembered the words of the Nogitsune hauntingly in her mind. She typed in DEATH and hit enter, but it returned the same message of ERROR. She let out a small sigh of defeat. 

"Banshees predict death." Stiles said, lighting up as he turned to face Lydia. "What was the last death you screamed for?"

"Your’s." She typed in STILES but it came back with ERROR. "Well…" Lydia gave him a look. "What’s your actual name?"

"I don’t think it’s me." Stiles dismissed. "What about before that?"

Her eyes became vacant a moment before she softly said “Aiden…” She typed in his name to get the same response. “And before him….” Her hands trembled slightly as she punched in ALLISON.

The two of them stared at the screen as it started deciphering the code into words they could read, but both of their hearts fell heavy as they recognized the words to be names.

"What is this?" Stiles asked in awe.

"Is that  _your name?_  How do you pronounce that?”

"Focus Lydia, why are there numbers next to the names?"

Lydia pursed her lips together as she ran her eyes up and down the list of names with the different numbers tagged next to them. Stiles reached over and held her wrist, inhaling sharply as he closed his eyes. After a moment Lydia looked over at him, his eyes opening to reveal teal irises.

"It’s a dead pool." Lydia said. "And it’s got you, me, Scott, and Derek listed."

"That’s…well what do the numbers mean then?"

"Money value."

"Yeah, but how much? It says twenty next to Scott."

"What did you do earlier?" She asked, looking down at his black hand still wrapped around her wrist.

"I took away your fear so you could focus." His eyes faded back to brown. "I figured it would help."

"It kind of did." She stared at him with a broken smile before returning her attention to the computer screen. "I think it means twenty million. And the ones that say two-hundred-fifty are two-hundred-fifty thousand."

His mouth gaped as he let out a slow breath. “That means Scott and I are worth twenty million, you’re worth fifteen million, and Derek is worth ten million.”

"I think so." Lydia said warily. "I think it’s time you figured out how to control your abilities."

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Twenty million dollars???" Stiles thought Scott’s jaw was going to fall off his face any moment after he came over to Scott’s house to explain the dead pool. He flicked his ears irritably.

"Yep, and I’m worth just as much apparently." He huffed. "You, me, and Lydia are worth the most."

"Was Kira, Isaac, or Malia on the list?"

"Not that we know of." Stiles explained. "But apparently the passcode only unlocked a third of the code. There’s still two more parts to the dead pool."

"That means anyone who has access to this list will try to come after us. Who knows how many assassins are out there. I thought we were just going to have to deal with the Mute, but… apparently he was working for someone called the Benefactor. I think he’s the one who made the list."

"Not to mention Void." Stiles said with a twitch of his tail. "I’m sure he’s going to be a problem soon. And what about you? What about Liam?"

Scott sighed, giving Stiles an expression he knew too well. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to turn him, and I don’t know what to do with him…”

"What do you mean  _you don’t know what to do with him?_ ”

Scott made a reluctant noise. “Follow me.”

Stiles followed Scott into his bathroom to find a terrified freshman bound in duck tape in the bathtub. The kid looked at Stiles with a quizzical expression. “What the hell, Scott? You kept him  _hostage?_ ”

Scott lifted his hands up defensively. “I panicked. I’ve never turned someone before. I don’t know what to do.”

"How long has he been here?"

"Less than an hour."

"How about we try talking to him? Maybe do without the tape?"

Scott looked over at Stiles, uncertain.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Why does he have cat ears?" Liam spat out the instant they got the silver off his mouth.

"Hey, they’re _fox_  ears. Do your research.” Stiles defended. “I’m just one of the freaks in the supernatural world you are now a part of. Congratulations.”

Scott shot him a glare before kneeling next to the chair Liam was strapped to. “Liam, I need you to know what’s going to happen since I bit you. I bit you to save you, but I need to talk to you about it. So can I take off this tape and trust you to stay and listen?”

The kid looked completely startled. “Yeah…yeah sure.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. Scott went ahead and released the tape holding Liam bound, and he remained sitting timidly.

"The bite, it’s uh…it’s going to change you." Scott began.

"Unless it kills you." Stiles cut in. Scott shot him a look. "Which…" He gestured towards Liam. "It _probably_  won’t….” He glanced over at Scott before whispering, “Is he crying?”

"Liam, it’s going to be ok. You’re not going to die. You’re just going to…change. Into a werewolf, like me."

“ _Or_  something completely different.” 

"Not helping, Stiles."

"Right." Stiles stepped forward and placed a hand on Liam’s shoulder. "We’ll help you through this, Liam. You don’t need to worry."

Liam looked up at him with sad puppy eyes before shifting his attention to Scott. Then he suddenly bolted up from the chair, punching Scott in the face and elbowing Stiles in the stomach, eliciting a high pitched yowl from the pain.

Scott and Stiles fell over as Liam made his escape, running down the hall. “That BASTARD.” Stiles screamed before running after him with frightening speed. Before Liam could reach the front door, it locked on its own accord, and when Liam tried to unbolt it, the gears wouldn’t budge. Stiles’ mouth curved into a wicked grin as he laughed darkly.

"HAHAHA YOU PUNK!" His arms quickly darkened as he approached the terrified kid. Liam ran into the kitchen, but Stiles was right on his feet. Before he knew it, Stiles had his hand pinning Liam’s throat against the counter, several kitchen knives poised in the air around him, threatening to strike.

"Stiles!" Scott’s voice yelled in alarm.

Realizing what he was doing, Stiles backed away from the kid, his expression startled as the knives clattered down to the floor like shattered glass. He looked back at Scott who stared at him with a terror in the depths of his eyes.

"What did you do?"

"I think I learned how to use telekinesis." Stiles said dourly. 

When they returned their attention back to Liam, he was gone. Finding the back door left open, Stiles and Scott sighed simultaneously. “Should we run after him?” Stiles asked without any enthusiasm.

"No…At this rate we’ll only scare him more." Scott said, closing the door and walking into the living room to sit down on a couch. Stiles followed him, sitting on the carpet in front of him. "Do you think you’ll be alright when the full moon comes?" 

Stiles lifted up his shirt to look at his stitches again, relieved to see Liam didn’t break any of them. “I should be fine.” He looked up at Scott. “I think I’ve absorbed plenty of chaos as of late, so I should be able to shift just fine. And I think I’m healed enough that my injury shouldn’t be a problem.”

"Ok…just make sure you don’t use any more…superpowers. You need that energy to shift in a few days."

"I’ll try." Stiles said doubtfully. "Most of the time I don’t even realize I’m doing anything. Like the illusion I cast on you guys, and now the knives…"

"Just don’t accidentally kill anyone, please."

Stiles laughed. “I can’t keep any promises, Scott.”

When Scott stared at Stiles with incredulity, Stiles pinned his ears back. “That was a  _joke_ , Scotty.”

 

 

»»««

 

 

"What are you doing here?" Scott looked at Stiles in bewilderment. "Your ears. And your tail! How’d you get rid of them?"

"Deaton took out my stitches this morning and they went away." Stiles answered. "So I figured I’d make an appearance at school."

"Yeah but it’s the full moon. You’re not going to shift, are you?"

"I shouldn’t till nighttime, just like werewolves."

"What about your hands?" Scott looked down at Stiles’ arms. "Won’t they be turning black around so many people?"

"Deaton taught me a few tricks." Stiles said with a smirk. His eyes flashed cerulean as he lifted his sleeve, his arm turning black. Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, receding back to his pale skin color, his eyes returning to their warm brown. "Foxes are known for their abilities in shifting, but it’s not a one-way street. I can shift to make myself appear more human than I really am."

"Just be careful. Especially with the dead pool, I can’t have anyone seeing you as a werefox."

"I’ll be cautious. What are we going to do about Liam though?"

"I already formed a plan with Kira."

Stiles groaned. “Your plans suck, Scott.”

"No, it’ll work. It  _should_  work. We’re going to have Kira ask Liam to go to a party, which will be at Lydia’s lakehouse, and then…progress from there.”

Stiles frowned. “That might actually work. I just hope Malia and Liam don’t kill us tonight.”

"We’re going to have Isaac and Derek there with us, so they should be able to help keep them under control."

"Emphasis on  _should_.” Stiles said nervously. “Remember how everyone keeps saying that werewolves and werefoxes can never coexist? What if me being a fox drives Malia and Liam into a frenzy and they both come after me? What then?”

"I won’t let that happen. I’ll protect you, Stiles."

"What if it affects you too?" He asked with creased brows. "What if it affects Isaac and Derek too? Not to dis Lydia and Kira, but I don’t think they can protect me from five bloodthirsty werewolves."

Scott frowned. “We’ll figure out something. If nothing else, you can run faster than all of us. There’s no point in trying to keep up.”

Stiles sighed. “I guess I’m going to be burning a lot of carbs tonight.”

 

 


	14. Drowning

"When does this thing usually happen?" Stiles asked as he paced around the lakehouse’s living room like a frantic dog.

"Not for another hour or so, Stiles, relax." Isaac replied from one of the couches. 

"I can’t  _relax_ , Isaac. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your skin stretch and your bones reshapen and your nervous system completely rewired? The  _anticipation_  of it is even  _worse_.” Stiles snapped. “None of you have any idea what it’s like.”

Malia casually raised a hand. “I do.”

"Malia understands." Stiles dramatically gestured to the werecoyote. "Fellow tricksters understand one another."

"It hurts like hell." Malia said matter-of-factly. "I’m sorry you have to go through that."

Stiles’ eyes softened as he looked at Malia. “Well…at least I don’t have the bloodthirst thing going for me.” He felt bad that Malia accidentally killed her family in her shift. Stiles felt grateful that the only person he had hurt so far was himself, if he didn’t count the worry he caused everyone. He turned to look at Scott. “How long till Kira and Liam get here?”

"Sometime soon." Scott glanced out the window. "The sun’s almost down. She said she should be here before it gets dark."

"Would you stop pacing?" Lydia sputtered. "You’re making me nervous."

Stiles rolled his eyes and plopped down on the ground, but he instantly sprung back onto his feet.

"Good god Stiles, can’t you keep still?" Lydia asked.

"What, you guys don’t hear that?" He looked at Isaac, Scott, and Malia in question.

"Hear what?" Isaac asked. Malia strained her neck forward as she listened to the sounds around her.

After a moment Malia spoke up. “Oh I hear it now. Kira’s nearby.”

"I hear it now too." Scott remarked. "Foxes must have better hearing than wolves."

"That’s good to know." Stiles muttered. "Although I think you guys have a better sense of smell than I do."

"That would make sense." Lydia added. "Foxes have larger ears. Wolves have more sensitive noses. I can hear the car now." She said with a sarcastic smirk as Kira pulled up into the driveway.

Derek walked in from the kitchen area. “Everything’s ready in the basement. Also Lydia…” He walked over to the strawberry blonde and handed her two small containers. “Deaton wanted me to give these to you. One’s wolfsbane, the other is letharia vulpina.”

Lydia looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

"In case…" Derek sighed. "Anything happens. Wolfsbane is purple, letharia vul-"

"I know which is which." Lydia cut in. "I shouldn’t have to use them though." She let out a slow exhale. "Hopefully."

Kira and Liam entered the lakehouse, the kitsune practically shoving the kid through the doorway. “Here we areeee!” Kira announced, more to the pack than to Liam.

"Wait…it’s you two again!" Liam pointed at Scott and Stiles. "Where are your cat ears?"

“ _FOX_  ears.” Stiles moaned. “Calling me a cat is insulting.”

Liam turned around to Kira, who plastered herself against the door, locking it behind her. “I didn’t sign up for this. What is this, the mafia?”

Stiles laughed maliciously. “Something like that. Here. I’ll give you a run-down. Godfather.” He pointed to Scott. “Underboss.” Derek. “Consigliere.” Lydia. “Caporegime.” Isaac. “Soldier.” Malia. “And Associates.” He pointed to himself and Kira. 

"How do you know so much about Mafias?" Scott asked.

"That’s not important." 

"How come you and Kira are associates?" Derek asked, curious.

"Because we’re not wolves, duh." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I don’t want to be a part of any mafia!" Liam protested.

"It’s not actually a mafia." Derek reassured.

"Then what is this?"

"A werewolf pack." Stiles blurted.

"Way to ease it to him." Isaac muttered.

"But werewolves aren’t real." Liam defended.

Everyone softly sighed or groaned. “Did you really not notice when Scott’s  _fangs_  sank into your flesh?” Stiles asked.

"Are all of you werewolves?"

Stiles sighed despondently. “Do I really need to remind you that they’re  _fox_  ears again?”

"Liam, I’m a werewolf, and since I bit you, and it’s the full moon, we need to help you with the first night as a werewolf." Scott explained, taking a step closer. "It’s going to be a little scary, but we’re all here to help you through it. We want to help."

"Wait, this doesn’t involve killing anyone, does it?" Liam shifted his eyes between everyone.

"No, not unless you lose control." Derek explained. "But we’re here to help you _maintain_  control.”

"We won’t let anything bad happen." Scott added.

"Ahh!" Malia groaned, growling, her eyes glowing blue as she hunched over. "Isaac…"

Isaac wrapped an arm around her as he looked up at Scott. “We’re going to head to the basement. Stiles, you should head upstairs.”

"Yeah…" Stiles grunted, his fangs making an appearance as his eyes turned teal. "Did we invite anyone else to our full moon shenanigan?"

"No." Scott whipped his head towards Stiles. "Why do you say that?"

"Because there’s half a dozen cars coming."

Everyone looked at Liam.

"I thought this was a party! I invited some friends."

“ _You-_ " Lydia looked like she wanted to set Liam on fire with her eyes. "Well, this changes our plans."

"Can’t we just tell them to leave?" Stiles panted, his fox ears now out and pinned back. 

"Then they’ll be wondering where Liam is." Scott said.

"They’ll be wondering where he is regardless, because he won’t be at the party." Derek added.

Several car doors slammed outside as a number of loud teenagers headed towards the front door.

"Nnngghh, whatever happens, I’m outtie." Stiles muttered before running up the stairs, moaning.

Malia growled, to which Isaac stood up with her. “Weeee need to leave as well. We’ll be in the basement.”

The remaining five looked back and forth between each other, a pained yowl echoing from upstairs, before everyone looked at the front door where the doorbell rang, and Kira remained plastered with wide eyes.

"WhatdoIdo." She spilled out the words.

Derek stepped towards Liam, smiling with lifted eyebrows. “Sorry kid.” He punched him square in the jaw, knocking him out completely.

"What’d you do that for?" Scott asked.

"We don’t have time. Scott, come with me to take Liam to the basement. Lydia and Kira, you two need to…distract…everyone." Derek commanded as he picked up the unconscious Liam.

"But I don’t know how to throw a party." Kira said, still wide-eyed.

"I do." Lydia stood up and walked over to the front door, her face livid. "I’m going to kill everyone when this is all over. If half of our friends don’t do that already for me."

Once Derek, Liam, and Scott disappeared downstairs, Kira slid away from the door as Lydia took a deep breath and opened the front door to see a few dozen teenagers.

"Is this where the party’s at?"

Lydia smiled, tilting her head. “It most certainly is.”

 

 

»»««

 

 

Stiles was terrified at first.

He was unfamiliar with his surroundings, and the sounds of several loud people were echoing through the space. His legs felt unsteady at first, but after running around through a few rooms he felt better. There was no escape unless he went down the stairs, but unfamiliar smells and sounds were down there.

He came across a white room where the pandemonium was quieter, but it wasn’t till the door closed on its own that his surroundings died in noise. He looked at the closed door with flattened ears, trotting up to it to scratch a paw at its corner. 

He was trapped. 

Stiles growled in annoyance. There was hardly anything in the room. He padded out into the center of the empty space and sat down. Rotating his ears in all directions, he found he could hear absolutely nothing, save for the beating of his own heart.

And the whisperings of a shadow.

"We meet again." 

The black fox appeared out of no where, and when Stiles turned to look at it, the animal instincts began to slowly clear his mind. 

"Void…?"

"You’re starting to remember again. That’s good. Faster than the last time. You see, when you’re stuck in the mindset of an animal, you can’t utilize your full capacity."

Stiles got up onto all fours, crouching slightly as his tail lashed back and forth. “And I’m not afraid to use them on you.”

"Oh  _please_. You want to challenge a thousand year old spirit when you’ve only used telekinesis twice, and cast a mere simple illusion?”

"I see it as progress." Stiles growled.

"It definitely is, but you’re still no match for me. Instead of getting your tail beaten up, how about you let me teach you a thing or two, hmm?"

His tail stopped lashing as he slowly straightened up. “You want to…teach me?”

"Well how else are you going to learn?" Void chided. "The closest of our kind are the kitsune, but they’re as far from us as fish are to sharks."

"Is that what we are? Sharks among a bunch of fish?"

"It’s one way to look at things. It gives you a little more perspective of what we’re capable of. You wonder, Stiles, why werefoxes and werewolves can never coexist? Why the only places there are foxes there are no wolves?"

Stiles was silent a moment, hesitant to answer. “Why.”

"Because foxes  _annihilate_  wolves faster than hunters  _ever_  could.” 

His jaw gaped slightly, his heart beating faster within his chest. “But…wolves are stronger than us…”

Void thrust back his head to laugh. “Certainly! If you’re  _arm wrestling_. Physical strength isn’t everything, Stiles.  _You_  more than anyone should know that. You’ve always been weak and defenseless. How is it you’ve survived all these years living among the supernatural? Where does your true strength lie, Stiles?”

Stiles stared at the fox spirit with a hard gaze. “My mind.”

"And right now, that strength is stronger than all of your werewolf friends combined. You want to get out of this room? You can whenever you’re ready. Ready to  _focus_.”

Stiles closed his eyes to look like he was concentrating on opening the door, when really he was trying to remember what was in the room. There wasn’t anything useful he could use, so instead he used Void’s convenient positioning to his advantage.

"I  _am_  focusing.” He said.

"Focus harder. Feel the energy inside yourself, use your own willpower to make it happen. You need to believe in order to make it happen.  _You need to be the spark._ ”

Stiles opened his teal eyes to see the closet door fly off its hinges and slam into the ground where Void was standing. Panting for breath, he slowly approached the door expecting some kind of manifestation that Void was injured, but it looked like he just disappeared. To his dismay, the voice returned.

"You thought it’d be that easy??"

Stiles turned around to see the obsidian fox sitting proudly on top one of the speakers, eyes glowing malevolently.

"Fine." Void retorted. "If you won’t cause any chaos…." His snout formed a devious grin. "Then. I. Shall."

The fox vanished, leaving Stiles alone in the soundproof room with a fear that terrible things were about to happen, and it was all his fault.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"I never ordered this." Lydia argued to the man who brought in a keg of beer. "I’m underage. And I’m responsible. There’s no way I’m paying for this."

A loud slam from upstairs caused her to flinch. “Excuse me, I need to go attend to that.” She pushed through the crowd of dancing teenagers to find Kira, who was stationed near the stairs that lead to the basement to make sure no one went down there. 

"Did you hear that?" Kira asked.

"Yeah, I think I need to help Stiles upstairs. Make sure nothing…insane happens in here. If a man asks you to pay for a keg of beer, don’t do it."

Kira nodded before Lydia left, running up the stairs as she slowly inhaled to calm herself. She was planning to spend time with Stiles and make sure his first full moon wasn’t unbearably awful, but instead she had to babysit a bunch of highschoolers and wince whenever someone broke something or damaged the house in one way or another. She wanted to kill someone.

She picked up Stiles’ abandoned clothes at the top of the stairs, placing them on a dresser in one of the rooms. “Stiles?” She whispered, searching around under the beds and in the closets. She wasn’t sure if he was going to be in fox mode again, but either way she knew he would stay upstairs. There was no way a frightened fox would willingly go downstairs in the crowd of a party, but she still worried that he’d dash away from her so she walked slowly. It also began to bother her that he wasn’t responding to her voice. She knew he could hear her.

She couldn’t find him in any of the rooms, but then she came across a closed door hidden at the back of a hallway. Opening it slowly, a frantic fox ran right up to her, rearing up onto his backlegs to rest his front paws against her legs. “Lydia! Something terrible is about to happen.” He yapped, but she still heard his voice..

"What? What happened with the door?"

"That doesn’t matter. Void is here, and he said he’s going to cause chaos since I wouldn’t. You’re not getting any feelings that people are going to die, are you??"

Lydia’s eyes widened. “Not- not yet…what should we do?”

"I don’t know…but I have a bad feeling that I’ll be the only one able to stop him."

A loud clang echoed from downstairs, followed by several screams. It wasn’t long till more bangs clashed against the house, more screams breaking through the air.

Stiles looked up at Lydia with teal eyes, his ears pinned back. “Whatever it is he’s doing, it’s causing a lot of chaos…”

 

 

»»««

 

 

Kira was already half way up the stairs when Lydia started to descend. “Lydia! The pipes, the faucets, the toilets, everything - it’s all - everything is leaking! Rapidly!” 

"Oh no…" Lydia saw everyone rushing out of the house. The floor was already covered in half an inch of water. Glancing behind her, she saw water trailing out from the bathroom in the hallway.

Void was flooding her house.

When all the werewolves were in the basement.

"We need to get to Scott and the others!"

"What about Liam and Malia?" Kira asked.

"It doesn’t matter, everyone should be out of the house by the time we get them out. Stiles!" 

Stiles ran over to the both of them, growling at the damage once he saw the flooded living room. 

"If what you said is true, try to start doing something about the pipes." Lydia ushered before running down the stairs with Kira towards the basement.

Stiles wuffed a fox-sigh before running through the water to reach the kitchen, where most of the water surged.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Malia, I’m going to unchain you, but you need to focus. Don’t let it control you." Isaac instructed as he frantically unlocked the cuffs around her wrists.

Liam was too uncooperative when the basement started flooding that Derek ended up knocking him out again. Scott and Derek worked frantically to pull the chains out from around Liam as the basement filled with water at a frightening speed. Gravity was not in their favor and most of the pipes lead to the basement.

"Scott!" Lydia shouted as she ran down the stairs cascading with water, stopping abruptly on the sixth to last step. Kira halted right behind her. The basement was at least four feet deep, the water surging above everyone’s stomachs. 

"Lydia, can you get some rope? We need a lifeline!" Scott yelled.

Malia screamed, disappearing under the dark surface with a splash. Isaac dove under, both of them resurfacing a moment later. “There’s a chain wrapped around my leg!” Malia said in alarm. “I can’t get it off!”

"Void is doing this!" Lydia called over the rushing water. "We need Stiles to stop this, otherwise we’ll all die!" 

"Then hurry and get his tail down here!" Derek growled, sputtering out water as he continued working on the chains that held Liam bound.

Stiles was already descending the stairs, paws moving frantically. “No matter what I did to the pipes, they only worsened.” He explained to Lydia.

"That doesn’t matter anymore. Void has a chain holding Malia and Liam down. And they can’t get them off. You need to use your telekinesis now more than ever. Kira, come with me to get the rope." Lydia and Kira ran upstairs, leaving Stiles to his own devices. 

"Where’s the water coming from?" Stiles yapped, but then realized no one here would be able to understand him. 

"Stiles! The chains! Move the chains!" Scott yelled.

He descended a few more steps till his paws were submerged in the water, his teal eyes looking at Malia’s position and Liam’s position. He tried focusing, imagining the chains wrapped around their limbs under the currents of water, and concentrated on their links slackening grip.

Instead Malia and Liam were pulled under the surface.

"You’re doing it wrong!!" Isaac yelled before going under.

"I’m trying!!" Stiles yowled. 

Lydia and Kira came back with two boat paddles and some rope. Lydia tied the rope around the neck of the paddle, then tossed it into the water. “Grab on, we’ll pull you up.” 

"I’m not going anywhere till we free Malia and Liam." Scott protested. Derek and Isaac resurfaced, gasping. 

"I can’t loosen it at all!" Derek yelled.

"STOP THIS!" Stiles yowled at the Nogitsune.

 _You want to save your friends?_  The cool voice entered his mind. T _hen you’re going to have to embrace the animal that you truly are._

Stiles knew what Void wanted him to do, and he didn’t like the sound of it. With a reluctant growl, he turned towards Kira and dug his fangs into her ankle, then did the same to Lydia. The two girls cried out in pain, but before he could hear their confused protests, Stiles dived into the water and swam under the surface.

Swimming as a fox was a lot trickier than he expected. Stiles never thought he’d have to embrace the art of doggie-paddling, but here he was. He reached Malia first, using his mind to break the chains that held her foot down. Both the werefox and werecoyote surfaced to gasp for air, but Stiles dove back under to find Liam.

Lydia and Kira safely reeled in Isaac and Malia with the lifeline they created as Derek and Scott dived back under. Stiles was there with them, breaking the chains with so much force that one loose end slammed into Derek’s leg, swirling tendrils of blood leaking into the water. Scott pulled Liam from the beam, dragging him through the water as he inched towards the stairs. Derek follow suit, albeit slowly, releasing a growl of pain. Lydia and Kira helped pull all three of them to safety.

"Where’s Stiles?" Lydia asked frantically.

"He was right there with us." Scott wheezed.

Before Stiles could head back, the chain wrapped itself around his left forearm, pulling him down to the bottom of the flood. 

_Void, let me go._

_Hmm. Let me think about it._

_This isn’t funny!_

_I think it’s amusing._

The chain tightened its hold, eliciting a yowl from Stiles, precious bubbles of air escaping his jaws. 

_What benefit is there in killing me? I thought you needed me._

_That’s debatable. But I do like you quite a lot._

_Then let. Me. Go._

_I’ll release you. But not until it endangers one of your friends._

Fear washed over his bones, and with as much energy as he could muster, Stiles tried to free himself with his mind, then resorted to physically clawing at the chain pressed into his forearm. His efforts were useless as darkness flooded his mind.

 

 

»»««

 

 

Scott jumped back into the basement which was now completely flooded, located Stiles, then grabbed the chain and pulled. Running out of breath, he had to swim back to the stairs and resurface, then frantically dove back under. Scott pulled as hard as he could, eyes glowing crimson, till the chain came free. Securing the fox and the chain, he swam back to the stairs, breaking the surface with a gasp. He ran up the stairs past Lydia, then plopped Stiles on the kitchen table. 

"Do you know what you’re doing?" Lydia asked, running up behind him. 

"Deaton taught me how to do CPR on dogs. It can’t be that different, right?" He positioned Stiles to lay on his right side, unwrapped the chain around his left foreleg, then opened the fox’s jaws, pulling out his tongue and tilting his head back.

Dashing around to the other side, Scott found the spot on Stiles’ chest behind his elbow, locked his hands together and began compressing. Lydia watched, holding her breath for the scream that was crawling up her throat.

With a strangled whine, Stiles coughed out water before pushing himself up only to fall back down due to his injured leg. Lydia released a soft exhale of relief before scratching behind his ears. 

"Are Liam and Malia alright?" Scott asked to the group in the living room.

"Yeah." Isaac called. "Derek and I got the water out of their lungs."

The tension in Scott’s muscles relaxed, and he looked down at Stiles who was breathing less heavily now. “Are you alright?”

"Never been better." Stiles wheezed. 

"Whoa…I could understand you that time." Scott exclaimed.

Stiles lifted his amber gaze up to his friend. “Really? How so?”

"Maybe it’s telepathic?" Lydia suggested.

"Maybe." Scott said, perplexed. 

Stiles pulled himself up to at least sit upright, looking over the flooded devastation that wrecked Lydia’s house. “I’ve got to stop this.” He stood up on all fours, closing his eyes as he pinned his ears back in concentration. He tried to imagine all the water sources in the house, all the pipes, all the broken parts of the architecture. 

He focused on the burning darkness in his veins, all the screams and cries of anguish, the fear and terror, the revel in sinking his jaws into Kira and Lydia’s flesh, the shifting mass of chaos in his bones. It felt so inviting. He wanted more. 

 _No, that’s what he would want_ , Stiles thought. He swallowed the chaos, and focused on fixing what was broken. When he heard the sound of rushing water stop, he opened his eyes, his ears perked forward.

Lydia was staring at him in awe. “It looks like you stopped the flooding.” 

"I’m not done fixing things yet." Stiles barked. He pushed his snout against Lydia’s arm, his whole body shaking as soon as he made contact. He growled in pain, causing Lydia to look at him with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?"

Stiles looked up at her painfully, his eyes glowing. “Healing.”

Before Lydia could protest, Stiles was finished and limping off towards Kira to press his forehead against her leg. His breathing laborious, growling with every exhale, he healed Kira’s bite mark then proceeded towards Derek.

"Stiles - you don’t need to-"

"Yes. I. Do." Stiles growled through clenched teeth. The pain intensified exponentially when it was a werewolf, causing Stiles to howl in pain as he pressed his shoulder against Derek’s leg.

"Stiles - stop it. I can heal on my own!" 

Before Stiles could even argue, he looked at Derek with half closed eyes, jaws parted weakly as he fell over and passed out.

 

 


	15. Burning

Stiles awoke in someone’s lap, a warmth thawing his body as gentle hands ran along his spine. He opened his eyes groggily, eliciting a yawn before looking up at Kira, who smiled down at him.

Of course Kira would be the one cuddling him.

"How are you feeling, Stiles?"

"Like death." He moaned, stretching out his paws before taking in his surroundings. Kira sat next to an open hearth where a fire crackled in the dark room. On a couch, he could make out the sleeping bodies of Isaac and Malia, intertwined beneath blankets. "Where’s Lydia? And the others? What about the flood?"

"The water didn’t reach this part of the house, luckily." Kira said quietly. "Derek and Scott are showing Liam all the ropes of being a werewolf. Lydia’s talking with the insurance rescue people…they’re pumping water out of the basement." 

"And you can understand me?" 

"Yeah…I can hear your voice somehow. It must be a telepathy thing."

"Huh. I don’t even notice that I’m doing anything different."

"Well, foxes are also known for being messengers because of how fast they can run. Maybe the telepathy just comes naturally."

"Maybe…" Stiles whined softly. "You healed, right?"

"Yeah…Lydia and Derek too. I’m not mad at you or anything Stiles, but I was wondering…why did you bite me and Lydia?"

His ears pinned back in self resentment. “I needed to feed off the extra pain in order to focus enough and free Malia and Liam. I’m sorry.”

"You don’t need to apologize." Kira scratched behind his ears, causing the fox to completely relax. He never would have guessed being scratched behind the ears would ever feel so good, but a fox’s nervous system must have been wired differently. It helped him forget the pain he absorbed from healing everyone.

Scott burst into the room panting, his expression worried. Isaac and Malia shot up into upright position, and Stiles leapt out of Kira’s lap to stand on all fours, but stumbled when a pain shot up his leg. He forgot about the wound caused by the chain, and whined painfully as he stood back up.

"We have a serious problem." Scott announced.

"It must be a Tuesday." Stiles sighed.

"No, we have a majorly serious problem." Scott said, huffing. Derek and Liam followed in behind him breathing heavily. "First-" Scott gasped. "Kate’s alive. And she’s a werejaguar. And she wants to kill you and me for killing Allison." 

“ _What?!_ " Stiles lashed his tail angrily.

"And Argent’s cousins are here. Marissa and her extended family. And they’re particularly interested in killing you."

"Perfect."

"Oh, and Kate has berserkers." Derek mentioned.

"She has what now?" Isaac asked.

"Giant scary people covered in bones." Liam muttered. 

"Wait, did you guys just fight them?" Malia asked.

"Yes." Scott panted. "We fought off Kate and her berserkers just now, but we need to get out of here before they catch up. Which won’t be long-"

Suddenly Liam wolfed out, growling viciously in the direction of Stiles.

"Scott? Scotty? I think your beta wants to kill me." 

Scott stood in front of Liam, eyes glowing red as he growled back authoritatively, but Liam stood his ground. Stiles crouched down, fangs bared into a snarl, eyes turning teal. 

"Liam, back down." Scott growled. "Stiles is not the enemy."

Liam charged against his alpha, the two of them tumbling to the ground in a snarling mess, wrestling for a bit before Scott landed on top. Pinning the kid against the floor, the alpha growled behind clenched teeth.

Scott roared in the kid’s face, forcing him out of his werewolf form. Stiles could feel the fur on his spine relax, but his legs were still tense, ready to spring and run if necessary. 

"I’m sorry!…I just got the urge to tear him apart…is that normal?" Liam huffed under Scott’s weight, his eyebrows creased in worry.

"I don’t know." Scott answered. "But you can’t ever do that again."

"I don’t know that I can promise that." Liam said weakly.

Derek sighed. “Either way, we need to hurry. Kira, you carry Stiles. Isaac and Malia, you tell Lydia what’s going on and make sure she leaves this place. The rest of you, follow me.”

Kira bent down to scoop up Stiles, careful not to apply any pressure on his left forearm. “Can you grab my clothes Kira? I don’t want to be without them when I change back.” He muttered.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Lydia, we need to leave." Malia said urgently.

She turned around to face the two weres, taking a few steps away from the workers pumping water out of the basement. Her expression was peeved, her tone frustrated.

"Can’t you see, I’m in the middle of saving what’s left of this cursed lakehouse?" 

"Lydia, listen." Isaac said softly. "Kate’s alive. She’s a werejaguar. And she has some type of creatures called berserkers tagging along with her, and they’re headed this way. She wants to kill Scott and Stiles for killing Allison, and since you’re on a dead pool worth fifteen million? You especially need to leave."

Lydia stared at him in awe for a moment before blinking rapidly. “What…that’s…wow. Ok. But these guys won’t leave fast enough, and I can’t just abandon the lakehouse with workers in it!”

"You go ahead." Isaac said. "Malia and I will stay here and take care of all of this. Kate shouldn’t even bother with us, she doesn’t know about us. But if she sees you, she will try to kill you."

Lydia was hesitant, her eyes darting between Malia and Liam. “What about Scott and Stiles? Have they left already?”

"Yeah, they left a few minutes ago." Malia answered. "Now go! Derek’s orders!"

Leaving the two weres, Lydia rushed out to her car and began driving down the long road that follwed the edge of the lake. She wondered if the others were alright, and if Isaac and Malia would be out of harm’s way. She had knots in her stomach, and couldn’t help the rising fear that she would scream tonight.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Shouldn’t we try and separate?" Stiles muttered. "If Derek’s car, your car, and Scott’s motorcycle are all heading in one direction, isn’t Kate going to catch onto our trail faster than you can say-"

The car shook violently, throwing Stiles into the door before the vehicle slowed to a stop. “What just happened?”

"I don’t know." Kira said fearfully. She unbuckled and reached behind the seat, unsheathing her katana from its cover. "But my car is disabled. I sure hope your leg is feeling better, because you may need to run."

Stiles swallowed hard as he waited for Kira to exit the car so he could leap over and out. Ears rotating in different directions, he listened for any sounds of Kate and her berserkers. Kira dashed over to the wheel on the passenger side and pulled out a giant bone claw. “This was embedded in my tire.” She announced nervously. 

Scott pulled up, took off his helmet, and dismounted his bike. “Are you two alright?”

"We won’t be for long." Stiles announced. He could hear growling, and it was more menacing than any werewolf or other supernatural creature he’d encountered. "They’re close by."

"Where’s Derek and Liam?" Kira asked, looking around the empty roadside.

"They were right behind me when I turned around." Scott said.

"Oh no."

"They probably got a flat tire too." Stiles remarked, his ears swiveling around nervously. "How many berserkers did you guys fight?"

"Just two." Scott said. "Why?"

"It sounds like there’s three."

Emerging from the darkness came three massive, growling shapes. As they stepped closer to the light from Kira’s headlights, Stiles saw the glistening surfaces of bones. 

"We’re going to die." Stiles said affirmatively. 

Scott and Kira prepared themselves, claws and sword at the ready, but the berserkers stopped approaching them to allow another to step into the light. Carrying an AK-47 against her shoulder, Kate Argent walked in the flesh, a sadistic grin on her lips. 

"Look at what we have here." Kate said enthusiastically. "Forty million easy dollars, and that’s not even the best part. It comes with a side of revenge."

"Kate…" Scott took a step forward. "I don’t know what you’ve heard, but we’re not the reason Allison is dead. She died protecting her friends, she died living up to your code of hunting those who hunt us! Taking your revenge out on her friends would not make her very happy."

"Huh. I can kind of see your reasoning, Scott." Kate said with a tilt of her head. "I don’t have much reason to kill you aside from the fact that you’re a werewolf worth twenty million. But him?" Kate gestured her rifle towards Stiles. "He has no excuse for killing Allison."

"Stiles was possessed by a vengeful fox spirit." Kira defended. 

"Yeah? And look at what he is now." 

"Kate’s right." Stiles said. "If anyone here is responsible for Allison’s death, it’s me."

"Stiles-" Scott began, but Stiles cut him off.

"I could have killed him." Stiles said as he pawed slowly closer to Kate. "While he was still in me, I could have ended it all. But I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t as strong as Allison. I’m certain that if it were her possessed instead of me, she would have saved us all. But I’m going to set things right. I’m going to make up for my shortcomings." He paused, crouching down lower as his eyes glowed. "Starting with  _you._ ”

Stiles snarled as Kate simultaneously fell to her knees screaming. She covered her ears with her hands, her fangs elongating as she fell onto her side in a howling mess. 

"Stiles! What are you-" Before Scott could ask, the berserkers approached them, growling. Derek and Liam ran into the scene, wolfed out and ready to fight. 

"It’s no fun to have someone screw with your mind, is it Kate?!" Stiles gave her the worst hallucination he could think of - the feeling of burning alive. He felt the Hales would appreciate the sentiment. Kate continued cringing on the ground, her werejaguar form manifesting itself as she howled in pain. In the wake of her suffering, the gouges on Stiles’ arm began to meld back whole in their healing.

Stiles had to cut the hallucination short as a berserker nearly slashed its claws into his backside. Scott jumped in to fight the berserker near Stiles, but it wasn’t long till Kate started running after the fox. He could run easily now that his forearm was healed, but werejaguars were fast. 

Before they could travel very far, a car skidded to a stop, and with a cold terror Stiles recognized it was Lydia. The strawberry blonde got out the car so quickly that Stiles barely saw the container she threw between him and Kate.

A line of black sand formed between the two of them, the mountain ash keeping Kate safely away as Lydia approached them, lifting up a bow as she drew an arrow at full length.

"If you try hurting him, I’ll probably be screaming your name." Lydia said with hard eyes. "Oh, and I’m a banshee. You probably didn’t know that."

Kate stood up and gave a dark smile. “I know what you are. And that you’re worth fifteen million. But it seems…” Kate’s green eyes looked beyond Lydia and Stiles before returning to the archer. “We’ll have to resume this encounter another time.” 

Before either of them could say anything, Kate dashed off into the darkness, and soon after the berserkers followed suit. Stiles looked up at Lydia with perked ears. “I like the bow. When did this become a thing?”

"Allison taught me a thing or two." Lydia said sadly, smiling at the bittersweet memory. "Chris gave me her bow because he said Allison would have gladly passed the mantle on to me. Turns out I was able to put it to good use."

"In Beacon Hills,  _any_  weapon can be put to good use.” Stiles whipped his head in the direction behind Lydia’s car, his ears alert. “We have company.”

Two cars came to a stop, releasing five personages carrying various weapons as they approached with a cautiousness in their step. Lydia drew her bow at the ready. “Who are they?”

"I don’t know." Stiles answered. "Although I’m fairly new at this, they don’t smell like they’re from Beacon Hills."

"And you’d be right." A woman said, stepping forward, only ten feet away from Lydia and Stiles. "But don’t worry. We won’t be staying for long."

A pained howl escaped from Stiles’ jaws as a red dart embedded into his neck. His vision quickly failing him and the trembling in his bones came as a familiar sensation when he fell over onto his side, gasping for breath as he tried to tell Lydia. “Letharia…”

Firing arrows at the hunters approaching her, Lydia disabled two of them before the woman got close enough to taser her, eliciting a startled scream. Falling down as unconsciousness began to take hold, Lydia could hear Scott crying their names into the night, unable to get past the barrier of mountain ash she created.

 

 

»»««

 

 

Stiles sluggishly regained consciousness, but everything remained hazy, like looking through fogged glass. The ground felt cold beneath him, and a burning lingered around his neck. A muffled voice slowly crept into clarity, clearing his mind.

"Stiles? Stiles! Look at me. Stiles?"

Blinking a few times and slamming heavily into a wall before he gained a sense of clarity, Stiles realized he was stuck in a cage on a table, while Lydia was handcuffed to a pipe against the wall, sitting on the floor. 

"Uuugghhh…." He whined. "What happened?"

"We’re stuck at a Hunters warehouse." Lydia whispered. "One of them stuck that collar on you and said ‘that should keep you in order.’ Is it laced with something?"

Stiles growled, attempting to paw at the silver metal around his neck. “I think it’s keeping me…from concentrating, whatever it’s doing…”

"Yeah, you’re no longer doing telepathy. The only reason I can understand you is because I’m a banshee."

"Then they’re trying to keep me from using any mind powers." Stiles growled.

Lydia’s eyes widened. “Or shifting back.”

Stiles looked down at her in alarm. “ _Shit_.”

"Do you just shift back automatically or do you have to make it happen?"

"I don’t know!" Stiles wheezed. "The last time I shifted back it happened involuntarily when Void touched me! If-if I shift when the sun rises, then…" He clawed at the collar in a panic. "Then I won’t have a neck for much longer."

Lydia wiggled away from the post so she could look behind her at the watch on her wrist, and read it was four in the morning. “We have about two hours to figure something out.” 

"Figure out  _what_ , Lydia?” Stiles barked. “The only way we could get out of this mess alive is if I release us with my mind but that’s currently  _impossible_.”

"Stiles, we have five angry weres looking for us." Lydia said softly but firmly. "We can’t lose hope yet. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t feel any screams coming." 

Before Lydia could say any more, Stiles ran from the back of his cage and slammed himself into the door, shifting his entrapment an inch across the table.

"What are you doing??"

"The only thing I  _can_  do.” Stiles growled, running into the bars of his cage again, sliding it closer to the edge. Someone walked in when he was about to go over the edge, which caused him to hiss in annoyance at the interruption. 

Two more hunters followed behind him as the first one pushed Stiles back from the edge. A female hunter came in from the side, fiddled with some controls on a remote, and pressed a button that caused Stiles to collapse with a yelp. An electric shock emitted from the collar, blacking out his vision and leaving his nerves fried. He felt a needle stab into his neck as a thick heat began to spread through his veins.

"What are you doing to him?" He heard Lydia’s trembling voice.

After a brief pause, the woman answered her. “I like to call it trial and error. We’re learning what works best against werefoxes since wolfsbane is ineffective and letharia vulpina only poisons them for a while. It’s not even very efficient. The chaos they feed off of just eradicates any kind of poison. Mountain ash can’t even stop them. The tricksters are a relentless bunch of survivors. It’s infuriating.”

She turned to face Lydia, a soft smirk forming at one edge of her lips. “Don’t worry though, we won’t hurt you, even with the fifteen million hanging over your head.”

Stiles howled in pain as he began moving around violently in his cage, clawing at the bars and clawing at himself.

"This one seems to be working." One of the male hunters said amusingly.

"Stop hurting him!" Lydia yelled. "You don’t even  _know_  him, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone! He won’t even hurt you despite all you’ve done to him if you just  _let us go!_ ”

The woman knelt next to Lydia, offering her a kind smile. “You have no experience with werefoxes, do you? Let me share with you a secret. That creature-” She pointed to the writhing fox that continued to scream behind her. “It doesn’t matter how kind the man behind the monster was. Once they’ve turned into a fox, they will stop at nothing to hurt everyone around them. It’s in their nature, sweetheart. The sooner you understand that, the better off you’ll be. Because in time, he would have ended up hurting you anyway. It’s inevitable.”

Lydia’s gaze softened. “You have the voice of experience.”

"There’s a reason my last name is Argent again."

 

 

»»««

 

 

"How long till sunrise?" Stiles moaned weakly.

"About twenty minutes." Lydia said sadly, her eyes burning. They injected all kinds of different venom and poisons into Stiles, taking note of the varying effects of each. Some caused him to black out. Some caused him to paralyze. Some caused extreme pain. Luckily most of them did nothing at all, but the painful ones made up for the lack of effectiveness in others. The last injection was giving him a high fever, so he just laid on his side in the cage, breathing heavily as he waited for it to pass.

"I’m sorry, Stiles." Lydia said softly as a tear fell down her cheek.

"Don’t- don’t be." He huffed. "There’s nothing- nothing you can do."

"There should be  _something_  I can do.” She fumed. “What good am I if all I can do is just sit here and scream as you die?!”

"Wait…" Stiles’ ears perked up as he pulled himself onto all fours. "Maybe that’s exactly what you need to do."

"What, just wait for you to die?"

"No,  _scream_ , Lydia.” Stiles barked. “Scream!”

Although hesitant at first, Lydia breathed in deeply before releasing a thunderous shriek that reverberated through the walls. The sound cleared his mind for a moment, enough for Stiles to concentrate and break open the door of his cage. 

He ran up to Lydia and with what little concentration he had left, unlatched the handcuff on her left wrist. “They’re coming, just pretend you’re still locked up.” 

"What?"

"Wait for the opportune moment." Stiles yapped right before the hunters came back in and shocked him, leaving him lying on the ground panting for breath. 

"I guess I don’t know banshees as well as I thought." The woman mused. "Silence her." She ordered one of the hunters with a jerk of her head. She bent down and picked up Stiles by the scruff, tossing him back into the cage and locking it shut. A hunter secured a strip of duct tape over Lydia’s mouth, then injected another toxin into Stiles’ neck.

Convulsing as he crouched low, Stiles began vomiting out thick tendrils of blood, wheezing weakly between intervals. 

Lydia yelled something muffled behind the tape, but it fell on deaf ears. She had no idea how she could possibly help, even with her hands free. There was nothing in the room she could quickly grab to utilize as a weapon, and screaming again would only give her maybe two seconds advantage when it would take at least three seconds to get Stiles out of the cage. Their only hope was if Scott and his pack came within the next ten minutes.

She never thought she’d be so happy to find a darker breed of savior.

 

 

»»««

 

 

_Hmm, that certainly looks painful._

Lydia closed her eyes and thought the response in her head.  _Void?_

_You recognize my voice. I’m so flattered._

_Shut up you fox, and help free Stiles._

_And why would I ever want to hand out favors like free candy?_

_Because you need Stiles. You can’t deny that._

_Clever girl. But what price are you willing to pay to free him?_

_Just hurry up and tell me what you want._

_Fine. A banshee’s scream gives us foxes immense strength._

_So you want me to scream?_

_No. Not just scream. It has to be a scream predicting death. Which means you need to kill someone in this room._

Lydia furrows her brows in disdain.  _What?!_

_I’ll even make it easy for you. Here, have a dagger._

The sudden coolness that appeared beneath Lydia’s hand confirmed that a dagger had indeed appeared right under her grasp.  _I’m not a killer. I won’t play your games._

_You shot two hunters earlier - it’s really not all that different._

_I didn’t kill them though! I made sure to miss any vital arteries._

_You know where all the vital arteries are, so this should be easy. These hunters have tortured your friend for the past two hours, and he’s about to die. How ever will you live with yourself if Stiles dies and you could have saved him?_

Lydia looked at the fox covered in blood in the cage, shaking in a sad heap that looked utterly helpless. She imagined the consequences of coming out of this alive, but weighed with the burden of murder, her eyes figuratively turning blue. But then she thought about what would happen if she did nothing, how Stiles would die and she would have to try and explain to his best friend and his father how she couldn’t save him. Then she would have to try and explain it to herself how she failed to protect the one who always protected her.  _I don’t think I could…_

_That’s right. Saving him is within your grasp. Now, do it._

Lydia closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall before she slowly secured her grip on the dagger, breathing in slowly.  _I’m sorry, Stiles…_

 

 


	16. Iron and Steel

_You just need to be brave for thirty seconds…_. Lydia told herself as she felt the scream heating up in her veins the deeper her resolve rooted within her mind. Her hands began to tremble, but she swallowed down the fear as she tore off the duct tape, stood up, and charged, screaming bloody murder.

Lydia focused in on the artery, her eyes burning as she swiftly raised the dagger in front of herself, winding up to slice out in graceful arc. Blood sprayed in elegant crimson ribbons across the room as the hunter fell to the ground with glazed eyes, sputtering as he slowly choked on death.

She spun around to face the two startled hunters, holding out the dagger out threateningly with a firm grip, her eyes on fire. “That was a warning.” Her voice was cold and harsh, nothing Stiles had ever heard before. “Release him!”

The woman looked down at her dead hunter before returning her calm gaze to the banshee. “You should have thought that through before bringing a knife to a gun fight, honey.” She pulled out a pistol and aimed casually with only one arm as if Lydia weren’t worth her full attention.

"You don’t know what I’m capable of." Lydia said smoothly, taking a step closer to her. "What if I scream again, but this time cause all your ears to bleed? Or maybe cause your brains to start leaking?"

"I’d put a bullet in your head before you could finish."

"Would you?" Lydia asked with a tilt of her head, her heart pounding. "Your sense of balance is located within your inner ear, and if I disable that, your sense of aim is completely off the mark."

The woman’s gaze wavered slightly, and her arm relaxed, slackening in her aim of the gun. Her lips began to part, but before any words could formulate, Stiles burst out of his cage and lunged at her throat.

The firearm fell out of her grasp as she fell to the ground, Stiles snarling his fangs into the flesh of her throat as she screamed. Before the other hunter could make a move, Lydia frantically thrust the dagger at him, embedding the blade into his chest. She ran up to him and pulled the gun from his hand, aiming the barrel at him as she panted in fear. The adrenaline was catching up to her, and she could already feel her knees start to sway. 

A fox howl caused her to turn her head over her shoulder to see the woman was holding Stiles down, pinning his neck against the concrete. Scarlet dripped from her neck and clenched teeth, her eyes furious. Before Lydia could think of what to do, a blur knocked the woman off and away from Stiles.

It was Scott.

Isaac followed right after him, knocking out the man on the ground by Lydia with a punch to the jaw. Lydia dropped the gun and collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, her eyes hollowly fixed on the floor.

Stiles yowled in pain as he clawed at the collar around his neck. Panic rose in his throat as his heart accelerated maddeningly, a terrified whimper escaping his jaws. “Lydia- tell Scott- the collar!”

"Scott- Stiles- you need to break off his collar!" Lydia gasped between shaky breaths.

Stiles could feel his muscles shifting, his whole body trembling under the pressure to change, but he withheld it the best he could. He let out a scream as the metal cut into his neck. He felt Scott’s hands as the chaos burned in his veins, changing him. Scott couldn’t get his hands inside the collar to pull it apart - Stiles already began changing. The pressure against his throat was immense, he couldn’t breathe, but then he felt sharp claws sinking into his flesh as Scott roared and Stiles simultaneously whined in release, the metal breaking with a resounding crack. Stiles fell over and fluidly stretched back to human size, panting heavily as blood spilled from his mouth and neck.

"Th-thanks…" He said groggily. His mind began to clear slowly from the effects of the collar, but the hours of torture and the gaping wound in his neck caused him to close his eyes as he continued to gasp for air.

"Are you alright, Stiles?" Scott asked, about to reach out a hand towards him but then reluctantly drew it back. Stiles already had ears and a tail, Scott figured he didn’t need any more fox parts.

"Yeah." He wheezed. "Feelin swell. Your timing’s -  _impeccable._ " Stiles opened his eyes to look over at Lydia, who appeared to be worse off as she hunched over on her knees, her face buried in her hands. Stiles slowly crept over as he inched his way over to Lydia, then gently grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from her face so she was forced to look at him. "Lydia…I’m fine. I’m alright. Look at me. Just breathe."

As Lydia looked up at him, her breath kept catching as her chest was racked with sobs. Stiles was covered in his own blood, the crimson trailing down his mouth and neck, his arms dark with the metallic stench. Lydia looked at her own hand, covered in the blood of the man she killed, and broke into a panic.

"I killed him, Stiles! I  _killed_  him!” She gasped. “I. Killed. Him.”

"Lydia, it’s ok-"

“ _It’s not ok!_ " She cried, hot tears streaming down her face. "I’m supposed to predict death, not _cause_  it!”

Before she could slip back into a series of sobs, Stiles held her face wet with tears with his hands dried with blood, his expression sad. “You saved me, Lydia. You saved  _both_  of us.” His eyes began to water. “It wasn’t murder. You are  _not_  a murderer. It was self defense. I would know, my dad’s gone over cases determining justifiable homicide. You’re not a killer, Lydia. You’re a savior. You’re  _my_  savior.”

Stiles pulled her into a hug as she buried her face into his shoulder, crying softly as her body trembled. He shut his eyes as he let the tears fall, rubbing a hand along her back reassuringly as he held her close, his arms slowly darkening beneath his own blood. 

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Cars and sitting and seatbelts are not designed for tails." Stiles muttered sluggishly as he kept fidgeting around in his seat in the back of Lydia’s car. After changing out a few tires, the gang was able to drive back home, far away from the Argent’s warehouse. Liam and Isaac went in Derek’s car, Malia went with Kira, and Scott drove Lydia and Stiles in Lydia’s car with his bike in the back. They were both so exhausted from previous events that Lydia rested in Stiles’ lap while he plopped on top of her in return.

"It wouldn’t be so bad on a motorcycle." Scott mused.

Stiles gave his friend a look in the rear view mirror. “Yeah, because it’s completely acceptable to run around in public with fox appendages.”

Stiles was still covered in blood, and the smell was driving him mad. He adjusted his position over Lydia so he could prop his chin on her shoulder and smell her hair.

"Stiles…" Lydia mumbled, half-asleep. "You’re not getting blood on my cardigan, are you?"

He smiled sadly at her closed eyes as he admired her long lashes. “Of course not.” He answered. She had blood on her cardigan long before Stiles ever touched her, so he knew that meant she temporarily forgot about recent events in the bur of her exhaustion. He didn’t want to remind her. She shifted the position of her arm, and Stiles noticed the gouge in her wrist from the handcuffs, dark and raw. He slowly reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist, feeling the pain burn up his arm and into his heart. He couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped his lips.

"Stiles, what are you…?" Lydia slowly awoke and came to realization, flipping onto her back to look up at Stiles holding her wrist, his eyes shut in pain. As the fatigue cleared her eyes, her lips trembled. "Stiles!"

"What?" He asked weakly, opening his eyes slowly to reveal teal irises.

"Stop that! I’m fine! I don’t need to be healed!"

"What if it has nothing to do with what you need?"

Lydia looked at him, puzzled. “What?”

"What if it has to do with what I  _want?_ " Stiles stared at her till his eyes faded back to their normal color, then released his crimson stained fingers from her wrist which was healed completely, only a few blood stains echoing the proof of there ever being an injury dug into her pale flesh. Lydia held her wrist with her other hand as if to confirm it were real. She looked up at Stiles with creased brows.

"Stiles, you don’t need to go through all that pain for a minor injury-"

"Yes I do!" He cut in so sharply Lydia flinched. Jaw clenching in frustration, Stiles lowered his voice but the edge was still present. "I can’t be like him. I-I don’t care how much pain I have to go through, I can’t- I can’t become what I once was." He inhaled deeply before continuing, his anger turning into melancholy. "Besides…It doesn’t hurt that much. I don’t really notice the pain anymore."

Scott briefed a glance in the rear view mirror, his expression concerned. After a moment, his eyes returned to the road and he spoke slowly. “We…also need to figure out a safe place for you two to stay.”

"What do you mean Scott?" Stiles asked.

His lips contorted into a frown. “The hunters are going to keep looking for you. And considering Lydia killed one of their own, they’re probably going to go after her too.”

"You didn’t kill the hunters?" Stiles asked appalled.

"No…" Scott sounded dismayed. "Killing can’t be the answer, Stiles."

"It is if they’re going to keep trying to kill us! Do I also have to remind you we’re on a dead pool with fifty-five million dollars hanging around our necks?"

"I can’t just start killing people! It’s not the right thing to do. There’s got to be another way."

"The only other way this is going to end is with us all  _dead_ , Scott. At this point, it’s kill or be killed.”

There was a tense silence as Scott continued driving, but Stiles wouldn’t let it rest. “What are you going to do the next time a hunter has a blade pressed against my throat? If you killed them back there you would have prevented a next time from ever happening! You can’t just let the bad guys go every time because you’re a good person - even good people have to kill sometimes.”

"I’m not a killer, Stiles!"

"What, and  _I am?_ ”

"…I  _never_  said that.”

"You were _thinking_  it.”

"Stiles," Lydia cut in, her voice terse. "Don’t-"

"It’s alright. None of us here can  _deny_  it. Just look at the color of my eyes.”

"Stiles, you were possessed-" Scott argued, but Stiles cut him off.

"And how much do you think that contributed? If I was possessed and didn’t have any willpower to kill anyone, my eyes wouldn’t reflect the color of a murderer of the innocent. The change in eye color requires  _intention_ ….even Derek, who never wanted to kill Paige still had the intention to kill her, to relieve her pain. My eyes wouldn’t be the color they are if it was only Void’s bad intentions.”

Lydia sat up so she could look at him at eye level, her gaze furious, hot tears threatening to spill over. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe a word of what you’re saying.”

"That’s because I haven’t told you guys everything."

Scott looked in the rear view mirror with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean, Stiles?”

"I remember it all. Not just the twisting of that blade, like I told you. I remember  _everything_  that happened, everything that I did, and the worst part? The part I’m keeping from all of you for _good reason?_  Is that I _liked_  every minute of it. I was no longer defenseless and powerless. I was no longer  _terrified._  I, for once in my life, felt like I was in  _control_ , which is the universe’s greatest irony of contradictions, seeing as I was  _possessed_. So there it is. There’s my darkest secret. Try telling me I’m not a monster, and _I will hear you lying to yourself._ ”

Stiles was expecting the silence to stretch longer, but it was Lydia who pulled him from the darkness, her eyes steadfast as the tears shone down the sides of her cheeks. “Stiles…you had _no intention_  to kill _Allison_.” Her voice was surprisingly firm, albeit quiet. “And you know what? You’re absolutely right. I can’t deny that you’re a monster just as much as I can’t deny Scott or I are monsters. But just because we qualify for a hit list of nightmares better left dead, does not mean we deserve to be annihilated. We may be monsters…but not all monsters do monstrous things.”

She looked down at his crimson hands and laced their fingers together before returning her gaze to Stiles. “And I don’t  _care_. You may have done monstrous things, Stiles, but you’ve done so many  _humane_  things that I could care less about the monstrous part. You didn’t kill Allison. That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

Stiles heard no skip in her pulse, only the steady rhythm of her heart’s inner honesty. He looked down at her hands within his own, knowing that beneath the stains of blood his veins ran black with Lydia’s pain. He hated feeding off of her suffering, yet reveled in the bliss of ecstasy warming him down to the bones. It was a drug he could not shake - a drug he feared would turn him into the monster Lydia was convinced didn’t fit his description.

He briefly flickered his eyes down to her parted lips when he heard something else in her heartbeat, a slight quicken in pace when he moved his hands away from her grasp.

"Then…" Stiles said slowly, his words barely above a whisper. "I suppose you should already know…I don’t think what you did was monstrous, Lydia." He blinked a few times to hold the tears back, his expression hard.

"Because a monster like me would have done the same."

 

 


	17. Hands

"Marissa Argent shouldn’t know about my loft unless Chris told her." Derek said as he took another bite of toast. "Which is unlikely. But she’ll quickly figure out where any of your homes are at."

"And we can’t exactly hide at the station when I’m still healing." Stiles muttered with an irritated flick of his ears. 

"Why don’t you just fully shift?" Derek inquired. "You’d heal faster that way."

Lydia and Scott turned their attention to Stiles, who rolled his eyes with an exhale of frustration. “Maybe because I don’t feel like being a wild animal right now?” He sighed. “I just…like to feel human once in a while.” 

"You’re at war with yourself." Derek said in awe.

Stiles creased his brows. “What do you mean?”

"You say the shift is painful, and so did Malia. My mother… she was capable of a full shift as well, and she could do it without experiencing any pain. It’s because she accepted what she was, she connected with her inner wolf. While you, you and your inner fox do _not_  like each other. I can assume it hurts to shift from human to fox, but not as much when you shift from fox to human - am I right?”

Stiles glanced sideways and frowned slightly. “Yeah…but I can’t just embrace my inner fox like it’s no big deal. In case you forgot I was kind of possessed by an evil fox for a while. I don’t exactly like foxes.”

 ”And I’m sure Scott didn’t like wolves when he became one. And Lydia didn’t like banshees when she became one.”

 ”I didn’t like being the crazy one.” Lydia said tightly. “Or hearing voices inside my head.”

"You won’t be able to keep this up much longer." Derek said. "The longer you fight what you are, the more violent your fox will become. Eventually the fox will win. The animal will  _always_ win.”

"I didn’t have control till I accepted what I was." Scott added. "I know it sucks, Stiles, but you’re going to have to come to terms with it eventually. There’s a reason you’re a fox and not a wolf, and it’s _that_  reason that will make all of this more bearable.”

Stiles looked down at the ground with a conflicted frown, his ears flattening as he released a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I-I just…” Stiles growled in frustration before storming away to Derek’s guest bedroom and thrusting the door shut behind him.

Lydia began to follow after him, but Scott dashed over and grabbed her upper arm, forcing her to turn back around. “Let me talk to him.” Scott insisted. She nodded, understanding that Scott would be able to more easily comfort his friend in a relatable situation.

 

 

»»«« 

 

 

After knocking a few times with no response, Scott went ahead and tentatively opened the door to find Stiles on his hands and knees, breathing laboriously as he stared at his claws digging into the hard wood floor. Scott knelt down beside him, about to place on hand on his shoulder, but quickly retracted, looking at his face with concern. “Stiles, are you alright?” 

"Just…trying to shift." He muttered between growls. "But…I’m resisting too much…I don’t-I don’t- I’m  _scared_  of turning into an animal, Scott.” He looked over at the alpha, his eyes burning cold. “I’m scared of losing all control. I’m terrified that one day I won’t be able to shift back. But I can’t- I can’t be half and half either. That’s a hell of a lot more confusing. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t be completely human. How do you do it, Scott? How do you stay human?” 

Scott’s eyes softened as he stole a glance at the tips of Stiles’ fangs showing between his parted lips, then returned his gaze to the frightened steely eyes. “You won’t lose control, Stiles. Remember how I thought I would lose all control but you pointed out that whenever I thought of Allison I came back? And gained control? She…she was my anchor, and…she kept me from becoming a monster. Stiles, you have me, and you have  _Lydia_. We’ll be your anchors - we won’t allow you to lose control.” 

Stiles let out a guttural exhale as he tried thinking about Scott and Lydia, but the memory of biting Lydia not once but twice clouded his mind in stabbing recollection. He clenched his teeth and growled, trailing out into a frustrated yell. 

"Stiles…do you want me to force you to transform?" Scott asked warily, feeling helpless to his friend’s pain.

"No!" Stiles snapped angrily, his eyes wet. "I  _can’t!_  I hurt Lydia and nearly killed all of you when I was a fox! I don’t want to cause anyone any more pain! I’ve done- I’ve done enough of that already…”

"Stiles, it’s ok, we understand! You don’t need to beat yourself up so badly! Transitioning to being a were is hard,  _believe me_ , I get it. But you need to heal - if you shift fully you’ll heal faster and then we can get you back to being fully human again. _I promise_.”

Stiles looked at him with creased brows, his ears slowly perking up as he took a deep inhale. “…alright. I guess it’s like ripping off a band-aid. No one wants to do it initially, but it’s best to just get it over with. I still don’t know though…” He looked down at his claws before returning his gaze to Scott, “…if I’ll randomly get those animal instincts again… if I’ll be completely overwhelmed with those same instincts…”

"That’s what Lydia and I are here for. And Derek, and Isaac, and Kira and Malia. We’re all here to help you through this, Stiles. If," Scott chuckled softly, his smile warm. "If we have to chase you around the loft for a hour till the instincts die out, then we’ll do that. It’s not ideal, but we’ll do whatever it takes."

Stiles smiled weakly, but then brought up the realist point Scott missed. “Yeah, but now I have slightly better control of doing… you know… damaging stuff. Telekinesis, illusions, who knows what else. What if I hurt all of you again? What if it’s not just animal instincts this time, but werefox instincts as well?”

"We’ll handle it. I don’t care what it takes."

"What if it takes your life, Scott? What then?" Stiles practically pleaded, slumping down into a sitting position. "At the lake house… Void talked to me again…"

"He did?! What does he want with you?!"

"I don’t know. But he told me something Kira’s mom failed to mention." Stiles looked ashamed.

"What?" Scott had to resist the desire to reach out to his friend, his hand trailing out only to inch back towards his lap. "Stiles… what is it?"

"Void told me the reason why werefoxes and werewolves can never coexist." He swallowed hard, his throat incredibly dry as tears spilled down the sides of his face. His voice was brittle. "It’s because the foxes always annihilate the wolves. It’s because we’re so incredibly powerful and dangerous that wolves don’t even stand a  _chance_. There’s a reason why I shift when you touch me, because I have better control over my powers as a fox… it’s  _my natural defense to destroy you_.” He blinked away a few tears before looking at his hands again, his fingers digging deeper into the wood as he tried to resist the shift. “I don’t want to hurt you, Scott. And if being in more pain is all it takes to keep myself from killing you, then I’ll suffer all the pain in the world. I don’t care anymore.”

Scott furrowed his brows sadly as he let that information soak in. He wanted to say something comforting, but nothing could come to mind. Instead he remembered something he meant to ask Stiles, and spoke after a moment of silence. “You said something in the car that caught my attention… you said to Lydia that you don’t feel the pain anymore, but… I could tell you were lying, Stiles.” He didn’t need to ask the question - the look on Scott’s face told Stiles that he wanted an explanation.

Stiles exhaled slowly, balling his hands into fists, his claws slicing into the flesh of his palms as hot crimson pooled on the floor beneath his hands. “I think I understand now, what Allison meant when she said it didn’t hurt.” His voice was so quiet Scott might not have heard him properly if it weren’t for the supernatural hearing. “There comes a point where it doesn’t matter how much it hurts, because your resolve is stronger than your suffering. You could _never_  take away her pain, Scott, because she  _loved_  you more than the pain hated her.” His eyes flashed teal once more as the shift sat in his veins like a heavy anticipation. He smiled sadly at Scott. “Not all pain heals, but that’s alright. Sometimes  _the pain is worth it._ ”

Scott had tears in his eyes at the memory of Allison’s final words, but he smiled weakly at Stiles and held out his hand, palm facing upwards. “I don’t want you to suffer anymore, Stiles, especially on my behalf.  _Please_ … just take my hand. I’ll help you through this.”

Stiles stared at the outstretched hand like a deadly ultimatum before returning his gaze to Scott.  _Even when persistent he still offers me a choice_ … He stared down Scott with a hard, icy gaze, holding the tears back as he controlled his breathing. He slowly brought up his clawed hand, blood dripping into Scott’s palm before Stiles clasped their hands together, his eyes closing as he let the shift ignite from his contact with the alpha to spread out through his veins like a wildfire.

Before the transformation completely took over, Stiles muttered weakly, “Help me remember…”

 

 

»»««

 

 

Stiles awoke to the sounds of screams ripping through his brain, jostling him to stand on all fours, breathing heavily as he took in his surroundings. Quickly confirming he was a fox by looking down at his paws, he also gathered that he was on the bed in Derek’s guest room, right next to a sleeping Lydia. Her lips were parted slightly from a deep sleep, her strawberry blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, her long lashes like brush strokes against her cheeks. She looked so peaceful - he didn’t want to disturb her slumber.

Padding carefully off the bed, he slowly and quietly opened the door with his mind, closing it softly behind him as he descended the stairs to find Kira, Isaac, and Malia sitting on the floor of the loft, textbooks and notes sprawled out as they worked on homework. It was Malia who noticed him before he could join their circle.

"Hey, are you feeling better?"

"I think so…" He said telepathically, making sure to send the message to all three of them. He couldn’t remember much of what happened. "How long have I been asleep?"

"You and Lydia have been asleep for…seven hours I think…" Kira explained. "We decided to stay awake to make sure nothing happened while you two rested."

Stiles flattened his ears. “Thanks… you guys can sleep now though if you’re tired. Where’s Scott? And Derek?”

"Scott is talking to Deaton about some things." Isaac said. "Derek is trying to help Chris deal with Marissa. Do you… remember anything?"

"Why are you saying that as if I should remember something? I didn’t bite anyone, did I?"

Their hesitation to speak wasn’t at all comforting. Finally Malia spoke, completely straightforward about the whole situation. “You kind of cast some illusion on all of us. Apparently everyone saw something different. Well… _experienced_. It wasn’t just an illusion on our vision. It definitely screwed with our ability to feel things.”

Stiles let out a low whine. “What kind of things?”

"Slow and painful death." Isaac offered bluntly. "Long and drawn-out excruciating pain. Complete and  _total_ -“

"He gets it." Kira interjected. She faced Stiles with wistful eyes. "I don’t think you were in control, Stiles. You were scared of all of us and growling incessantly. It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean it."

"Yeah but I still did it." He sat and looked down at his paws. "Whether I meant it or not doesn’t change the fact it still happened. I still caused you all pain!"

Stiles jerked his head up at the sound of a scream, and he bolted towards the guest bedroom, practically tearing the door off its hinges to find Lydia sitting upright in the bed, her eyes wide.

"Lydia! Are you alright? What happened?" He yapped the words since he couldn’t stop long enough to concentrate properly and speak telepathically.

Lydia stared off into nothing for a moment before fixing her eyes on the fox, her expression disturbed. “Yeah…yeah I’m fine.”

”’ _Fine_ ' my foot.” Stiles looked down before returning his gaze to her. “Er… _paw_. Whatever.” He jumped up onto the bed and stood so his face was only a few inches from her. “What happened?”

Lydia frowned in one corner of her lips, blinking slowly as she side glanced. Even as a fox Stiles had an intimidating stare, but she eventually returned her eyes to meet his. “It was just a nightmare.” She said softly. “Nothing more.”

"It was a nightmare about me, wasn’t it?" Stiles pinned back his ears.

Her eyebrows creased and her frown quivered. “It wasn’t you, Stiles. It was just a nightmare.”

"But you still saw me in the nightmare, didn’t you?"

Lydia exhaled slowly, her voice trembling. “Yes.” Stiles began to growl in frustration, but Lydia cut him off, her voice rising. “But that doesn’t change anything, Stiles! You’re still you, and I know you’d never hurt me! Besides, I’m… I’m kind of used to it…”

Stiles perked one ear up. “Because of Void?”

Lydia nodded slowly, her face apologetic. “But they’re just nightmares, Stiles. They’re not reality.”

"Valid point, but dreams and nightmares alike can only be created from existing memory."

"And nightmares represent long term storage of sensory encoded traumatic experiences, either real or misrepresentations." Lydia combated. "Clearly, it’s a misrepresentation of you."

"Yet you still drew out that misrepresentation, even if done subconsciously."

Lydia couldn’t deny what Stiles said, so the two of them continued staring in silence. After a moment, Stiles spoke again as he walked away from Lydia towards the other side of the bed. “It’s alright. I’m starting to come to terms with all of this. The sooner I realize that I’m nothing but a monster, the better.”

"…No." Stiles turned his head to see Lydia burning her eyes into his like a flame. "You will not come to terms with any such thing." Lydia sat up straighter and grabbed Stiles and plopped him in her lap again, her hands trailing down to lift up both of his front paws so that they pressed against her outstretched palms. Her tone bore into his chest like an arrow. "Focus. You have fingers, so lock them with mine."

His ears shot forward as he released a protesting whine. “I can’t Lydia! How can I-“

"Shh." She hissed, lowering her voice. "Stop yapping and  _think_. Remember what it’s like to be human. Imagine your hands locking with mine.” Lydia figured the best way to help Stiles learn control of the shift was to force him into doing something human. It was the only good idea that came to her in that moment.

Stiles pulled his ears back as he stared at his paws for a moment, then closed his eyes as he concentrated on metamorphis. His breathing quickened, turning into growls as his claws dug slightly into Lydia’s soft flesh, but she never flinched. The fox was holding Stiles down, keeping him from shifting.

_The longer you fight what you are, the more violent your fox will become. Eventually the fox will win. The animal will always win._

Stiles yelped in pain and started to turn away from Lydia, but she closed her fingers over his paws and held him there. “Keep trying. Push through it. You can change, Stiles. You can. I know you can.”

He looked up at her, his limbs shaking, ragged breaths increasing pace. He shut his eyes once more as he focused all his energy on what Derek and Lydia told him.  _I know what I am… I am a fox, but I am also human. Even though I may not look it, I am still human inside. And… same as when I’m human, I am still a fox inside. I am neither one or the other, I am both._

After eliciting a yowl of pain, skin stretching and bones reshaping, Stiles knelt in front of Lydia panting heavily, fully transformed and nude, his long fingers slowly interweaving with her own. He stared at their hands in awe as if he had never seen them before, and saw Lydia’s lips inch into a broken smile before she leaned in and kissed him.

Although completely caught off guard, Stiles relaxed into the feel of her lips, allowing the pressure of their mouths to release the tension held in his veins. He pushed back against her contact, tightening his fingers around her hands before releasing them and gently cupping the sides of her face. The two of them fell over, Lydia landing on her back as she wrapped her arms around his waist, Stiles fully drinking in the taste.

He jerked away suddenly, his warm eyes wide in alarm. “I-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to-“

"You idiot, I kissed you first."

Stiles furrowed his brows. “Oh yeah. Why did you do that?”

Lydia’s lips parted slightly as she looked up at him, flabbergasted. Stiles stole a glance down to her mouth again, taking note of the skip in her heartbeat. “I…umm…” Lydia faltered, but then pursed her lips together and spoke eloquently with her defense. “I wanted to keep you from shifting back. And kissing is a very humane quality. Foxes don’t kiss.”

Stiles wanted to laugh, amused by the fact that he’d never get Lydia Martin to admit to any kind of affection, but he kept the humor to himself. Instead he just smiled mischievously. “Well you are mistaken. Because this fox  _does_.” He lowered his neck to kiss her again, pleased to find she returned the gesture, her hands trailing up his back. It was comforting to know her heart was beating nearly as fast as his own, the adrenaline completely taking over as they applied more pressure, lips moving furiously as if they were running out of time.

"Stiles." The alarm in her voice snapped Stiles out of his trance. He sat up slightly to find he had claws, his index and middle fingers digging slightly into Lydia’s fragile neck.

"Shit." He breathed, carefully removing his hands from her so as not to cause any more damage. His breathing quickened when he saw the crimson painted on the tips of his claws, his throat releasing a distressed whine.

"Stiles, Stiles, it’s alright, it barely hurt." Lydia defended, pulling him closer to her, her hands traveling from his back and down his arms to hold his hands again. "Just _listen_. Listen to my heartbeat, I’m not scared. I never will be.”

Barely averting a panic attack when he looked at her, Stiles stilled completely to discover the strawberry blonde’s heartbeat was as steady as someone who was at peace. Her words weighed with truth, and her hazel-green eyes never wavered, holding him down like an anchor.

"…I’m sorry." He whispered. His claws retracted, but the warm blood remained on his nails like the remains of a nightmare.

Lydia offered a weak smile. “Don’t be.”

 

 


	18. Distractions

"Stiles, you don’t need to-"

"Shut up Lydia and let me heal you." Stiles practically snarled at her. He touched the scratches on her neck for only a few seconds, his eyes glowing, before he withdrew his hands innocently. "There, see? Barely took anything outta me."

"Last time it caused you pain." Lydia’s voice was laced with guilt.

His eyes warming back to their normal color, Stiles looked at her sadly, blinking a few times slowly. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me.”

Lydia’s eyes remained sorrowful, but she smiled softly. “We should probably find you some clothes.”

Stiles scoffed. “Clothes are unnecessary in the animal kingdom.”

Lydia gave him a look. “You’re not a fox.”

"I could be."

Stiles could see Lydia struggled not to smile before she huffed and threw the comforter at him. She slid out of the bed and took a few steps away, keeping her back to him. “Just hurry up and cover yourself.”

"Why, am I distracti-"

"Don’t be ridiculous." She cut in. "I’m just giving you privacy."

Stiles smirked mischievously, knowing that she probably held blush in her cheeks by the sound of the skip in her pulse. He just made out with Lydia Martin, and Stiles had no idea where to go from there. Covering himself would probably be the first thing to do.

"What am I supposed to do, make a toga out of the sheet?"

"No, genius. Your clothes are sitting on the dresser."

He looked over to find, sure enough, his clothes from that morning folded neatly. As he proceeded to dressing himself, he asked idly, “Did you feel anything else when I…did whatever it was…?”

Lydia furrowed her brows in confusion for a moment. “Well…I…certainly. But that’s completely normal. It’s not…just don’t take it personally.”

Stiles frowned. “Aren’t I supposed to take it personally? This is kind of a big deal Lydia, I can’t just ignore the way I feel about it.”

Lydia turned around to give him an apprehensive look. “Because you’re afraid you’ll get hurt otherwise?”

"No, because I- Hold up." Stiles held out a hand. "What are you talking about?"

She arched a brow. “What are  _you_  talking about?”

"I’m talking about when I cast that illusion thing earlier." His jaw gaped as he waited for Lydia’s response.

He could see clearly now that she was indeed blushing, her face turning almost as red as her hair. “Oh. Well then let’s talk about that.”

"Nooooo, what were you talking about?"

Lydia tilted her chin upwards, her expression defiant. “That doesn’t matter now. You know what I think you need?”

Stiles was going to say making out again, but he clamped his mouth shut before the suggestion could leave his lips. He merely raised his brows as he awaited an answer.

"Something to keep your mind off things." Without further explanation, Lydia turned gracefully, her locks of hair arcing behind her, and left the room. Stiles followed after her, wondering what kind of distractions she had in mind.

 

 

»«

 

 

"This wasn’t the kind of distraction I had in mind." He protested. Lydia held the bow that was once Allison’s, pulling an arrow to full draw.

"It won’t just be practice for me, but for you as well." She tried a few different draws of the bow, keeping the arrow in her hand.

"How do you mean?"

"I’m going to shoot at targets, and you’re going to stop the arrow from hitting them." She said it pleasantly as if they were doing something so simple. 

Stiles growled. “I don’t know how to stop moving objects.”

Lydia tilted her head slightly to glace over at him. “Now is your opportunity to learn. Ready?” She pulled her draw taut, aiming at a target stapled to a tree several meters away.

"No."

She ignored his protest and released, but the arrow didn’t travel far before it slammed down into the earth, releasing a spray of dirt. Stiles stood with an arm extended, his eyes glowing.

"What was that?" Lydia asked disappointingly.

"It appears I just changed its direction." He sighed, eyes returning to their normal color. "This is a lot harder to pinpoint than it looks."

"It’s a good thing I have a lot of arrows then." She combated, drawing another arrow before he could protest.

After several flukes of sending the arrows in wild directions, a few nearly missing them, Stiles stopped a few arrows and kept them suspended in the air successfully before they fell to the ground. Lydia shot many more arrows till Stiles finally stopped an arrow mere inches before it hit the bulls-eye.

"Look! Look how close it is!" Stiles chimed excitedly, turning to grin at Lydia like a child on Christmas morning. "And  _you_ \- you’re a  _really_  good shot, and- and…”

Stiles stared at her breathlessly before his eyes softened. He took a step to close the gap, hands finding the sides of her face as his lips locked simultaneously against hers. Although taken aback, Lydia quickly found rhythm, slowly dropping her bow as her hands found his chest, her spine arching to press against him. Stiles tilted his head, gently biting her lower lip before fervently claiming them once again.

They pulled away, almost forcefully, panting for breath. Lydia lifted her eyes to meet his before offering a playful smirk. ”You’re…you’re really pleased about this, aren’t you?”

"W-well, I- I did-"

“ _Your tail’s out_.”

Stiles frowned before he contorted his torso to twist around and see the white tip of a fox tail swishing lazily behind him. “Traitor!” When he heard Lydia giggling softly, he whipped around and tried to give her the most disgruntled expression, but with all the blush in his cheeks it wasn’t working out too well.

"Your ears are out now too."

Stiles half groaned, half growled when he threw his hands to his head to feel his velvet ears squished underneath.

"And now your fangs are out too."

“ _Not helping!!_ " 

In the midst of Stiles’ frustration, which mainly consisted of him flailing and growling, Lydia yanked on his shirt to pull him in for another kiss. She held him there, moving her lips slowly, hands moving gently down his arms till she held his hands. When she pulled her lips gently away, she smiled to see him fully human.

He looked at her with a warmth in his eyes that admired her like she were the sun on a clouded day. He blinked a few times, exhaling softly before speaking in awe, “How’d you know to do that?”

Lydia gave him that smirk he knew all too well. “Clearly, when your heart is racing that fast you lose control…so I slowed it down.”

"Heart rate…" The memory was slowly coming back to him. "Just like with werewolves…but how’d you know that would slow my heart rate?"

She gave him a look with a slight tilt of her head. “There are different ways to kiss, Stiles. Believe it or not. Not everything has to be done as ‘go big or go home.’”

He blinked a few times, his lips bending into pleasure. “Is that you admitting that my kissing is extraordinary?”

Lydia stared at him for a moment before sighing nonchalantly and turning away to start picking up arrows.

"Wait, I’ve got this." Stiles closed his eyes and inhaled sharply through his nose as he began to concentrate, but Lydia rushed up to him and held his shoulder, her voice terse.

"No. You’ve used up plenty of energy today. I don’t want you to be completely dry when something catastrophic happens." Her eyes were so hard there was no way he could refuse the wishes of Lydia Martin. Stiles sighed and helped her pick up the remaining arrows scattered about the forest.

 

 

»«

 

 

"You’re back to normal!" Scott’s eyes lit up when he saw Stiles and Lydia enter the loft. He was sitting on a couch with Kira, textbooks laid upon their laps.

"Thanks to Lydia." Stiles said with a tilt of his head towards the strawberry-blonde. "She has some good methods."

"What, like some kind of banshee power?" Scott perked up excitedly.

"Well, not exactly-"

"I evoked a retrieval cue for procedural memory." Lydia explained. Scott and Kira stared at her for a better explanation while Stiles just smiled at her admiringly. "I helped him remember what it was to be human."

"Ohh!" Scott raised his brows. "That’s good." He turned to Stiles, his face perplexed. "I wonder if controlling the shift is entirely different for you, since you don’t have the blood-thirst thing."

He offered a shrug. “Hell if I know. Still trying to hammer the details on that one. Apparently uhh, some emotions are…transformative…” He glanced over at Lydia then cleared his throat awkwardly. “But I think I was right about the whole heart-rate theory, because that seems to work for both of us.”

"Slowing your heart rate turns you back?"

"It appears so. It makes sense, because I seem to turn into a fox whenever I’m scared. Mentally too, that is."

"Stop being so scared then." Lydia jived. 

Stiles threw her a dirty look before returning his attention to Scott. “What are we going to do about the dead pool? That’s what I’m wondering.”

"I think…" Scott started, uncertain. "We’re going to try going back to school."

"Did you forget the part where we have millions of dollars offered for our decapitated heads?"

"No. But are we really any safer  _here?_  Or anywhere, for that matter? If we’re in class and in the lunchroom, places with lots of people, no one’s going to try and kill us.”

"You do realize how much stuff happens at our school without anyone noticing, right?"

"It’s the only plan we’ve got." Scott said with a defeated look in his eyes. "It’s better than just sitting around waiting for someone to try and kill us."

"He’s got a point." Lydia argued. "If we’re missing too long, it’ll raise suspicion. The best way to avoid pursuit is to blend in with the environment around us. None of us should ever be alone from this point on either."

"What if one of us has to go to the bathroom?" Stiles asked.

Lydia gave him a look of bewilderment. “Obviously you take someone with you!”

"But what if it’s fourth period where the only one I know in class is you, and you’re a girl, and therefore can’t go into the mens room?"

"Stiles-" Lydia deadpanned. "Do you _really_  want to die in a bathroom?”

"No-"

"Then I think you already know the answer."

"Ok, buddy system aside, what about  _me?_  What if I sneeze and my ears come out? I mean I have some control, but sometimes it’s…it’s… _unpredictable_.”

"Just don’t get excited. Or scared. Or stressed. Definitely don’t have a panic attack."

Stiles groaned. “Ignoring the fact that anyone could kill me at any point in time, and that I’m literally being hunted down by hunters, you  _do_  realize that I have a problem with ADHD? Asking me to not get excited or scared is like asking a dog not to chase any cats while in a cat shelter!”

"Yeah it kind of is." Scott agreed.

"Don’t you have medication for that?" Lydia asked.

"Yeah, it doesn’t exactly work anymore." Stiles scoffed. "Apparently foxes are almost as immune as banshees. But…I think by being a were I’m slowly overcoming it…it’s hard to tell."

"Kind of like how I overcame my asthma." Scott remarked.

Stiles gestured to him. “Exactly. I mean…it feels like  _less_  of a problem, but it’s still definitely there. It’s making telekinesis quite difficult. The heightened senses don’t exactly help any. The supernatural hearing sucks big time.”

"What if we gave you something to…dull your senses or something?"

"You mean like  _poison_  me? Yeah, I’m not up for that.”

"…that’s not what I meant exactly…but I guess that’s the only way of doing that…is there anything else we could do?"

Stiles glanced from Lydia to Kira and back to Scott again. “I think I’m just going to have to stay in control. We’re running out of options here. And besides…if something malicious  _does_  go down at the school… you guys will need me.”

None of them could argue against that.

 

 

»«

 

 

"McCall! Stilinski! Where the hell have you two been?"

Scott and Stiles looked warily at each other before they returned their attention to Coach Finstock. “Umm…” Scott started, swallowing hard. “We had more things with the…with the funeral.”

"Oh alright, fine. That’s acceptable!" He looked at the two boys sternly. "But that means you gotta make up for the time lost!! Which means no slacking off! You especially Stilinski!"

"Coach, I don’t ever play on the field." Stiles retorted.

"Which - is  _exactly_  why you can’t slack off!” Stiles narrowed his eyes questioningly at him, but Bobbi continued, “You two shlumps missed tryouts, and our next big game is _tomorrow_. I’m going to be understanding because of recent events, and you two are still on the team - even you Stilinski - but that doesn’t mean you can bail on our first game of the season. Got that?”

Both of them nodded. “Sure thing, coach.” Scott answered.

"Good. And don’t get injured. Greenburg pulled a tendon in his knee." He sighed as he continued down the hall. "That kid is going to be the death of me."

Once he was out of ear shot, Stiles spoke fervently in a low voice. “What are we going to do? We can’t just miss the game, but we can’t exactly spend our free time playing lacrosse when we’ve got murderers chasing after us!”

"Yeah, and apparently Kira and Liam are on the team now too."

"What?!"

"I know…we’ll figure something out. Let’s just get through the rest of today. How are you holding up?"

Stiles moaned, the sound turning into a growl at the end. “I’m practically drowning in everyone’s strife right now and it’s making me  _severely_  on edge.”

Scott’s eyebrows creased in concern. “How on edge?”

"Like I want to tear this place to shreds. I want to hear people screaming." He made a face after he realized what he just said.

Scott’s eyes continued to widen. “That’s…that’s not good, Stiles.”

"Yeah, well, needless to say, if anyone tries to kill us, I’m basically at maximum capacity right now. That’s a plus."

"Does this mean you won’t have to worry about not being able to shift back and forth? Because you don’t have to cause any chaos if you can feed off of it so easily."

"I don’t think it works like that. I can’t just hold in all the chaos, I feel like I’m going to explode. I’ve gotta release it somehow, otherwise…I think it slowly kills me."

"What?! How do you mean?"

Stiles huffed, pulling Scott by his shirt into a corner of the locker room where no one would be able to see them. He rolled up a sleeve and allowed his true colors to bleed through the illusion of appearing human. His arm was black as ink, but hot red veins burned through the darkness like cracks of magma. 

Scott’s mouth dropped at the sight. “What is that?”

"I’m not sure, new development I guess, but it hurts like hell. The more chaos I feed off of, the more my veins hurt. My body’s screaming to let it out." He rolled down his sleeve and sealed away the darkness, his arm paling back to normality. "I’m scared I’m going to lose it any minute."

"Stiles, don’t be scared. You’re going to make it through this. I know you can. I just wish…I just wish I could take away your pain…"

Stiles smiled sadly at his friend. “No one can take away my pain, Scott.”

 

 

»«

 

 

Lydia ran up to him so fast she startled him. She held his hands and spoke softly. “Scott told me about your arms. Are you okay?”

Stiles looked down at her and smiled weakly. “I think I will be. Let’s just make it through fourth period.”

"If anything happens, you fake a panic attack and I’ll ‘take you to the nurse’s office’, which probably means the locker room. Understood?"

"Fine. Let’s go tackle Anatomy."

When they sat down at a lab desk, Stiles whispered “ _Shit_.”

Without turning her head, Lydia muttered “ _What_.”

"Of course today we’re doing some kind of dissection." He pointed idly to the Tupperware container on the teacher’s desk containing several frozen birds.

"I thought gore didn’t bother you."

"It doesn’t. But sharp objects, Lydia. Everyone in the class will be holding a scalpel today. And I’m starting to lose it."

"Oh god." She quickly reached for his hand under the desk, squeezing his palm as if she could leech away some of the pain. "I don’t want to see any scalpels thrust into anyone’s eye sockets. So please, just…focus on my heartbeat. Zone out completely if you have to, I’ll do all the work in the lab today."

"What if focusing on your heart causes me to make it accidentally explode?"

"You won’t hurt me, Stiles."

"That’s not true."

"It is to  _me._ " She turned to look at him, her gaze frightened but fierce. "If you can’t handle it, you run the hell away from the classroom. I won’t be far behind."

Stiles stared at her a moment before nodding slowly, tightening his grip on her hand as if his life depended on it.

The dissection proceeded smoothly until a voice echoed through the clamor of the classroom.

_My my, you seem rather ‘tense’, Stiles._

As the voice chuckled, Stiles and Lydia looked at each other in horror. “No…not now!” Stiles hissed under his breath. “You can hear him too?”

Lydia nodded, her left hand which held a scalpel began to shake.

 _Now is… the perrrfect time, actually. You see, with_ that _much chaos sitting in your veins, this can only end in one of two ways._

"And those two ways would be…?"

_Either you’ll die, which would be such a pity, or…you turn into a fox. I believe either scenario would be rather upsetting in this classroom._

"You’re lying."

_There truly is no way for you to know that, is there Stiles? I have no heartbeat, and you can’t exactly afford to find out for yourself. You have to release some chaos._

"Stiles…" Lydia said softly, her breath trembling. "Let’s leave the classroom. Come on. We need to go somewhere where you won’t hurt anyone." She pulled on his arm but he wouldn’t budge.

_Oh I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’re safer here in this classroom._

"What do you know?" Stiles hissed.

_Certainly more than you. You’re welcome to ignore my advice, but you’ll sorely regret your decision. Ta ta._

Although he couldn’t see the fox, Stiles could tell Void had left the room. He could feel the sweat trickling down his neck as the anxiety kept him rooted in his seat.

"Stiles…what should we do?"

"You can never trust a fox…but I feel like no matter what we do we’ll still end up doing exactly what he wants us to do. I don’t know what’s outside of the classroom…maybe the Argents…maybe some assassins…but if I stay in here, people will get hurt." Stiles turned his head to look at Lydia, his eyes faintly flickering cerulean. "You don’t have any premonitions of death, do you?"

Lydia hesitated, frowning slightly. “I don’t know…your eyes are trying to glow, Stiles.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose. “Shiiit.”

"What if you start a fire?" She said excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

"What  _if_  I start a fire?”

"Then someone would have to pull the fire alarm, and everyone would have to leave the building, which means we can get away from everyone without whatever’s out there catching us."

Stiles opened his eyes and smirked mischievously. “Lydia Martin you are a  _genius_.” He paused, his face twisting into perplextion. “…How do I start a fire?”

Lydia looked appalled. “I don’t know the mechanics of your abilities! Turn on a gas burner and speed up the particles in the air next to it to cause heat!”

"That sounds really complex when I have no focus and am about to explode."

"Then focus. Think of only the gas burner by the curtain. Think of only the handle on that gas burner turning. Then think of the atoms only in that area speeding up. Imagine the fire in your mind, and make it reality."

Stiles closed his eyes as Lydia’s words washed over him like waves, and he imagined the flames lapping through the classroom. Before he knew it, a harmonious clatter rang through the classroom, followed by a chorus of screams.

Stiles simultaneously set all the gas burners aflame. 

Pandemonium broke out as the room spiraled into further disarray. In his panic, Stiles shattered the windows, sending glass flying. Glass vials and breakers exploded, pencils snapped into splinters, and the overhead lights rained with sparks.

"Stiles!" Lydia’s voice cut through the insanity like glass. "Stop it."

As soon as someone pulled the fire alarm, everything stopped falling apart, and the gas burners all shut off. Fire remained in the classroom, but it had yet to prove threatening. Students rushed out of the room, the teacher ushering kids out of the door. Once Stiles composed himself, he ran out with Lydia to the field, looking for Scott and Kira.

"Lydia." His voice was dripping with so much concern, Lydia stopped and faced him with a worry in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"You’re hurt." Stiles grasped her arm to examine the weeping cut above her elbow. 

She gasped, not even realizing the injury was there due to all the adrenaline. Before she could properly react, Stiles had his hand covering the wound, his eyes burning into the wound as he healed. “Stiles…” 

After a moment he coughed, a trickle of blood escaping his lips.

"Stiles! Stop! It’s  _hurting_  you!”

He released a guttural growl before answering softly, “ _Nothing_  hurts me more than seeing you in pain, Lydia Martin.”

He looked up at her watery green pools, his eyes searing electric, then faded, his eyes closing slowly as he collapsed into her arms.

 

 


	19. Switching It Up

"Stiles…Stiles!" Lydia groaned loudly as she tried dragging Stiles away from the crowd of confused students, pulling him by the wrists. She muttered under her breath, "Why do you have to be unconscious right now?"

As if he heard her, Stiles awoke with a strained gasp as if he just breached the surface of water. He grasped her arms with a ferocity, his arms turning black and eyes piercing teal for a moment before he lost consciousness again. Lydia released a gasp before she fell over as well.

Opening his eyes with a moan, Stiles sat up to have confusion slam into his brain with a violent force. He was looking down at his own body, collapsed on the grass on top of Lydia’s legs, but when he brought up his hands to find they were a lot smaller than he remembered, he looked down and dropped his jaw.

"SCOTT!!" 

Except when he called for his best friend, his voice was that of Lydia’s.

He was somehow controlling Lydia.

He pulled his legs out from under his body (which was weird seeing himself outside of himself), then grabbed his own arms and dragged himself further away from the crowd. “God, am I really this heavy?” He groaned, heaving and nearly falling over several times in the stupid high heels Lydia decided to wear today. He couldn’t understand how women walked so flawlessly in these things.

Finally Scott and Kira ran up to him and he released a sigh of relief. “Oh good, now you can help me fix this.”

"Lydia! Is Stiles alright?"

"Stiles, actually." He said monotonously.

"Yeah, Stiles." Scott pointed to the unconscious body with his brows furrowed in confusion.

"No,  _I’m_  Stiles.”

Scott and Kira stared at him for so long Stiles wondered if he’d have to paint a picture.

"Did you hit your head, Lydia?" Kira asked, concerned.

"No! I’m- ugh." Stiles rolled his eyes and pointed dramatically at his unconscious body. "That’s me, but I’m in Lydia’s body! Somehow, I grabbed Lydia and I woke up in her body. This is Stiles speaking, even though I sound like Lydia right now, because  _I’m in Lydia’s body!!_ ”

"Oh." Scott looked like he didn’t know how to respond. "Oh. Umm…well…"

"Mind control." Kira gasped. "That’s probably what this is. You somehow activated your ability to use mind control."

"What?" Stiles flailed. "What kind of a useless technique is that if my body falls unconscious?" 

"Maybe you’re just not good enough at it yet." Kira shrugged.

"Do you know how to switch back?" Scott asked.

"If I did I wouldn’t still be in Lydia’s body!! I wasn’t even trying in the first place, I just touched her!"

"Well, you are overflowing with chaos." Scott remarked. "Maybe you’re just pulling at straws to try and get rid of it, even if unintentionally."

"Well, Void did say I would die or turn into a fox if I didn’t release some of it soon." He grumbled.

"Void was here?" Kira asked, appalled.

"Yeah." Stiles grimaced. "I’m seeing more of him than I would like."

"Okay, but the question is how do we get you back into your own body?" Scott asked.

"Uhh…" Stiles sighed. "I don’t know. Do you know anything Kira?"

"I don’t know the specifics of werefox powers, no." She said apologetically. "But what if…how did you separate from Void when he possessed you?"

"Well…I’m not too certain. Last I remember was Scott howling in my mind, clearing it."

"What if Scott howled again? Would that send Stiles back into his body?" She turned to look at the alpha.

"Maybe." Scott narrowed his eyes uncertainly. "It’s worth a shot. Let’s go into the woods."

Stiles nodded in agreement. When Scott bent down to pick up Stiles’ body, he flailed, smacking his arms away. “No no no, what if you touching me still activates my transformation?”

"Oh. I forgot about that." Scott sighed in frustration. "What if I’m just careful not to touch any skin?"

Stiles flickered his eyes back and forth between Scott and Kira. “I suppose. I’m a lot heavier than I thought. Or Lydia’s a lot weaker than I thought. I’m guessing it’s the former. Either way I think it’ll be easier if you carry me than if Kira and I carry…me. Ugh this is so confusing.”

"It’s alright, Stiles, we’ll figure out something." 

"I hope so. Being in Lydia’s body is freaking me out. I wonder if I can get banshee premonitions since I’m in her body." He looked down at Lydia’s hands as if they would hold the answers.

"Well I hope not, because that would mean someone’s about to die." Kira commented.

"Good point." Stiles bent down to pull his unconscious body up so Scott could grab him by the waist without touching his arms. He thrust him over his shoulder princess-style. "Ok, careful, don’t drop me or anything." 

Scott gave him a look before shaking his head and heading towards the forest. Kira and Stiles followed, Stiles muttering curses about high heels the whole way towards the trees behind the benches of the field. 

Once they were deep enough to avoid being overheard from other students, Scott tried to place Stiles’ unconscious body down, but ended up touching his arm accidentally in the process, causing the black tipped ears to appear on the sides of his head.

"Scoooott." Stiles moaned in Lydia’s voice. 

"I tried not to drop him- you!" Scott complained. "Would you rather I had your head slam against the ground?"

"Okay fine, point taken." He knelt down next to himself and touched his ears, as if him touching them would make them disappear. "Wow, they are soft." He muttered. He moved his hands down to smack his body on the cheek. "Darn. I thought that might work. This is so weird, man."

"We’re going to fix this, let me try roaring." 

Stiles looked up at him, hopeful. “Alright, do your thing, alpha.”

Scott’s eyes turned crimson before he released a drawn out, deafening howl that caused both Kira and Stiles to flinch, the sound echoing through the distance of the trees. When Stiles opened his eyes, he huffed a sigh to find he was still staring at Lydia’s dress when he looked down.

"Well it was worth a shot." He murmured. 

"I think this is something you have to figure out on your own, Stiles." Kira explained. "Only you can take over Lydia’s body, so only you can take back control of your own."

"Great." He stood up and began pacing around, which normally was easier with his own feet in shoes with no heels, but he kept doing it anyway. "Theoretically the whole mind control thing would make more sense if I could do it without ever touching the person or touching myself again, because then you could control people from a distance, and your unconscious body wouldn’t be vulnerable, and you could make them do things without anyone realizing you were to blame."

Scott stared at him with a gaping jaw. When Stiles noticed, he snapped a “What?”

"Uhh, that’s just umm. I can see now why you’re a fox, Stiles."

Stiles raised his brows. “I’ll…take that as a compliment. But anyways - I should be able to activate and deactivate remotely, so it has to be something I trigger in my mind. _Again_ ,” he rolled his eyes, “with the whole mind-powers thing.  _It’s all in my mind_.”

"Maybe it’s like what Deaton said." Scott suggested. "Imagine it in your mind, and use your force of will. Be the spark."

Stiles paused as the gears spun in his head, breaking into a smile as he snapped and pointed at Scott. “Spark! Like an electric current! Currents are activated by a switch, turning on or off. All I need to do is revert my current to switch over to my body, by switching it off.”

"Sure…whatever that all means, do that." He said with a confused smile.

He closed his eyes, imagining his energy life-force (or whatever it was that was controlling Lydia) reverting to switch back into his own body. Using all his concentration, he felt a pressure pull him under and back up again.

Gasping as he bolted upright, Stiles looked down at his hands with a sigh of relief to see that they were his own. He raised his hands up to his head. “Never have I been more happy to feel fox ears on my head.” He remarked.

"What…where am I?" Lydia asked as she came to, pulling herself up from Kira’s arms where she collapsed.

Kira, Scott, and Stiles all exchanged glances with each other before Scott finally spoke up. “Stiles kind of…well he  _did_ …accidentally mind control you.”

Lydia gave an expression that suggested her head hurt.

"I took control of your body, so I was in your body for a while." Stiles elaborated. "Trust me, I didn’t enjoy it. You’re hella short."

Lydia’s confusion intensified. “Why…how’d you get ears?”

Stiles looked over at Scott with concern. “I think I drained a lot out of her. Should I just take her home?”

"No…our homes are no longer safe."

"No where is currently safe, Scott." Stiles looked wary. "Void hinted there were assassins at the school, so we can’t stay here for long either."

Scott exhaled slowly. “You can’t exactly leave till you get rid of your ears anyway.”

"Hey, I’m working on it. I kind of expounded energy taking over Lydia’s body and then getting back in mine." 

"That’s good though, right?" Kira asked. "That means you’re not so full of chaos like you were before."

"Yeah, that pressure’s alleviated. Somewhat." He lifted his arms to his face, revealing the darkness underneath the illusion to show the crimson veins were no longer threatening. He erased the darkness as his arms returned to normal. "So there’s that." 

Suddenly Stiles’ ears perked up as a peculiar word stood out, spoken by a student off in the distance.

_"Wolfsbane. That’s wolfsbane? I thought it was purple."_

His expression hardened into intense concentration as he heard the voice of a girl. 

_"Not this species. Which is very rare and very expensive."_

_"What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t screw up?"_

_"Don’t miss. Okay, all you have to do is nick him. It’ll work fast. Even on an Alpha."_

_"We gonna do this again?"_

"Stiles, what is it?" Scott asked but Stiles flailed an arm at him to be quiet.

_"I’m just saying I don’t know why we’re going after a Beta when there’s an Alpha and a Fox on the field."_

_"Because an entire pack of alphas went after McCall and he was the one left standing. And we have no idea what can poison the fox effectively."_

_"It’s a lot of money."_

_"So is the Beta."_

"We’ve got a problem." Stiles announced.

"What?" Scott asked.

"Apparently some of the assassins for the dead pool? They go to our school. They’re students."

"What?" Lydia’s eyes widened. "What did they say? Could you tell who they were?"

"No, but the guy sounded familiar…not the girl though." Stiles explained. "Apparently they have a rare breed of wolfsbane, one that’s not purple, and they’re planning to use it on the field tomorrow. They said they were going to go after ‘the Beta’ because apparently they’re intimidated by ‘the Alpha’ and ‘Fox.’" Stiles laughed darkly. "We have a reputation it would seem."

"Beta? Are they referring to Liam?" Scott asked.

"Liam might not even be on that list." Lydia stated. "We still don’t have the whole dead pool. I still need to crack two thirds of the code."

"Did they mention anything about a kitsune?" Kira asked, concerned.

"No, although they didn’t differentiate between werefox and kitsune, they just said ‘fox.’ Wolfsbane doesn’t work on either of us though, so I wouldn’t worry. Too much, that is." Stiles sighed. "They could still stab our vital arteries. They didn’t mention banshees either, by the way." 

"Oh good." Lydia said absently. "I don’t think I’ll be at the game though. Might as well avoid giving the killers any more temptations."

"That’s a good idea. Malia might as well steer clear of the game as well. Because we’re going to have me, Scott, Kira, Liam, and Isaac all on the field. That’s a hell of a lot of money." Stiles looked at Scott questioningly. "Can we somehow convince Liam to miss his first game? Does he even have his wolf under control?"

"I don’t know." Scott answered. "I might be able to convince Isaac not to go, but you and I have to make an appearance because of Coach. Kira needs to be there because it’s her first game, Liam too, but I think he’s going to be harder to convince."

"So what do we do from here?" Kira asked.

Stiles sighed dramatically. “We survive.”

 

 

»«

 

 

"It’s a lacrosse player!!" Stiles stood up excitedly from his position on the ground where several papers and photos were spread around him. Lydia was sitting at the desk in the soundproof room at the lake house, turning around with a disgruntled expression on her face.

"What are you spewing about now?"

"It’s a lacrosse player Lydia! The assassin! The assassin that’s going to kill us all tomorrow night!"

"You sound  _way_  too excited considering the topic.”

"No, but look - Well wait, hold on -" He bust out of the soundproof room and ran down the stairs and outside to his jeep, coming back up panting with a lacrosse stick. He plopped a few crime photos on Lydia’s desk, then removed the plastic end cover on the stick and showed it to her. "See the stab marks in the victim? It’s a lacrosse stick. Except, obviously, it has a blade of some kind inside of it."

"Do you just carry these crime scene photos with your homework?"

"Solving crimes  _is_  homework, Lydia.” Stiles defended. “But you know what this means? Our enemy will be on the field with us.”

"That doesn’t exactly sound encouraging." Lydia looked up at him with an arched brow.

"No, but it is. Scott and I should be able to figure out who it is before he can do anything about it."

"Hopefully." Lydia sighed, returning her gaze to the screen of her laptop that asked for a passcode. "And hopefully I can figure out if it’s Isaac or Liam you guys need to worry about." 

"Well the previous passcode was Allison…" Stiles began, swallowing hard at the remembrance. "So maybe it’s another name of someone who died."

"Maybe…" Lydia stared at the blank space with hollow eyes. "Maybe it’s…" She typed in the name AIDEN, then slowly hit the enter key to reveal the code manifesting itself into another list of names with prices.

Together they read simultaneously the names they knew as they popped up. “Kira…Kate…Noshiko…Isaac…”

Then Stiles exclaimed in surprise, “Jordan Parrish?!”

"Why does that name sound familiar?"

"He’s one of my dad’s deputies." 

"Huh. Still no sign of Liam or Malia on the dead pool though…"

"We’re closer though. Just one more third to unlock." He put a hand reassuringly on her shoulder, but stiffened when it faded into obsidian. "Lydia, are you alright?"

She glanced over to see Stiles’ darkened arm, then lowered her eyes defeated. “I’m just worried about all of you. I’m worried about _you_. I can’t…I  _can’t_  handle losing anymore people I care about, Stiles. I can’t…”

_But you haven’t lost me, not entirely._

Lydia let out a startled scream, looking around the room wildly.

"What, what is it? Are you okay?" Stiles asked, placing both hands on her shoulders, but she wouldn’t focus on him.

Lydia stood up and stared at a part of the room with wide eyes, her lips parted in awe. Stiles looked at the spot she stared at, then back to her, doing a double take to confirm nothing was there. He didn’t interrupt for fear she was gaining some auditory insight.

After a moment she spoke, her voice completely broken as the question resounded in the silent room with a shattered hope. 

“ _Allison?_ ”

Stiles whipped his head at her with furrowed brows. “Allison!?”

Lydia stared at the ghostly apparition of her best friend, donned in the apparel she died in, blood still staining her white dress. Allison appeared as if she had never died, save for the slight transparency in her being, and the fact Stiles couldn’t seem to see or hear her.

"I was hoping you’d be able to hear me." Allison said with a sad smile. "I’ve been trying for quite some time, actually." 

"You have? Wha- why can I hear you now?"

"I think you’re just getting better at being a banshee, is all." Allison beamed proudly, and Lydia still couldn’t believe her friend was here in the same room as her, talking as if nothing had happened.

"Wait, Allison is in the room?" Stiles asked, still whipping his head back and forth between Lydia and the space in the room. "Like…like a ghost?"

"I see her, Stiles." Lydia looked up at him with a light in her eyes. "She’s here, and I can hear her!"

"Hey Stiles." Allison waved even though he wouldn’t be able to see it. "You look better from when I last saw you."

"She says ‘hey,’ and thinks you look better from when she last saw you." Lydia relayed with a sad smile.

Stiles took a few steps closer to where he figured Allison stood, or hovered, he had no idea. “Why can’t I see her?” He asked, almost angrily as he turned to face Lydia. “Why can’t I hear her?”

"I think…it’s a banshee thing, Stiles…"

"I wanted…I wanted to apologize…" His eyes watered as his words came out in a bitter sorrow. "I wanted to apologize to your face, for everything I’ve done to you-"

"Stiles, it wasn’t your fault-" Allison began but Lydia cut her off.

"Maybe you can." Lydia stood up and walked over to Stiles, holding his hands as she looked up at him. "Take control of me, and then you can see her."

"What? But Lydia, I don’t ever want to do that again-"

"I’m giving you permission, to use my eyes to see your friend again."

"Well when you put it like that…" Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he concentrated. He felt the same motion of being dragged under only to be pulled back. When his body collapsed, he gripped his own hands with Lydia’s and lowered his body slowly to the carpet. He stood up straight and beheld the apparition before him with a mournful expression. Despite the scarlet wound adorning her figure, Allison looked radiant with energy, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Allison…I’m  _so_  sorry…” His voice broke as tears flowed down the sides of Lydia’s face. “If I had been strong enough…I’m sure I- I could have done something, something to _save_  you…”

"Stiles, it’s  _not_  your fault.” Her voice was firm, but her words were tinged with grief. “You were practically on your deathbed when everything happened. There’s nothing you could have done to save me, and I don’t blame you for my death. The only one to blame is Void.”

"I could have done something sooner though! I could have, I could have gotten rid of the Nogitsune while he was still inside me-"

"Stiles, that wouldn’t have done anything."

He paused, exhaling heavily. “How do you know that?”

"I can…understand some things better now that I’m…well….dead, and basically if I were to stab you right now, you’d still be alive while Lydia would die." She explained. "It would have been the same with you and Void. If you killed yourself, you would have only killed yourself. Void would still be alive. That’s why he’s still around regardless of Scott biting him and Kira stabbing him."

"Wait…if Void and I were connected, then how come the bite affected me but the sword didn’t?"

Allison frowned. “I don’t know. That’s something that’s been bothering me for a while, actually. I suspect Void would know, but I haven’t seen him recently.”

"Wait, you want to talk to him?"

"Sure." Allison shrugged. "He can’t hurt me. And he has a plethora of knowledge. I’ve been trying to learn his motives in order to warn you guys."

Stiles furrowed his brows in a look of dismay. “You’ve been talking to that bastard, the one who  _killed_  you, in order to help us? Why?”

"Because it gives me something to do." Allison laughed without any humor in her tone. "Call me crazy, but it gives me some kind of sense of purpose now that I’m dead. You know I tried warning you guys not to bite Void because it would just turn you, but…no one could hear me…"

"You tried warning us?"

"Yeah, I was hoping at least you would be able to hear me, since I could tell you were really close to dying. Although….now that I think about it…maybe the bite actually saved you. Because you were dying. So maybe it’s a good thing no one could hear me then."

"I never…huh. I didn’t even know I was dying. I was just in pain everywhere."

"When Void made a replica of your body, he was sapping your life force to make his own human vessel, and in consequence, your life force was….well….diminishing. So…I suppose it’s a good thing that everything kind of went differently than we hoped…if you weren’t turned Stiles, you would be dead."

"I have a new found gratitude towards my condition now that you put it like that."

Allison smiled warmly. “Just putting things into perspective. But honestly, Stiles…it wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to hear any forgiveness from me because I would have to be mad at you in order to forgive you. There was nothing you could have done, and I don’t blame you for that. I’m just glad…that you’re there for Lydia since I can’t be…”

Stiles tried wiping away his tears but then remembered Lydia was wearing makeup and stopped abruptly. “If you say so…but do know that, for whatever it’s worth, I am sorry…I am so sorry…”

"It’s okay, Stiles. Just…promise me one thing…"

"Anything, Allison."

"Just…make sure you take care of Lydia." Her voice was quiet, her lips turning into a faint smile. "I’ve seen her crying all alone for too many nights, and it seems…every time she’s around you she forgets about the sadness. So please…make sure she’s happy…I only want the best for her, and right now you’re the  _best_  thing that’s ever happened to her. Promise you’ll make sure to keep things that way.”

Stiles smiled, blinking a few times to clear his vision. “Promise. And…Allison?”

"Yeah?"

"It was  _really_  nice to see you again.”

Allison smiled, her dimples fully showing. “And you too. Send Scott and Isaac my regards.”

"Will do. You uhh…take care…I guess…" Stiles laughed. "Don’t get stuck in a haunted house."

Allison gave him a look but laughed. “It’s tempting. But I’ll try not to.”

Stiles smiled one last time at her, then laid down on the ground and closed his eyes as he switched back into his own body. He looked at the empty space where Allison once was, wishing he could still see her.

"God Stiles, why’d you have to do waterworks in my body? I’m all sad now." Lydia sobbed.

"Sorry, it just kind of all came out. I had a lot less control of that kind of thing in your body."

Lydia threw him a dirty look. “What, because I’m a girl?”

Stiles threw up his hands. “I never said that.”

"It was implied." She scowled 

"Anyway…I think I’ll give you two some catch-up time." Stiles said, standing up. "I’m going to go give Scott a call and figure out all this lacrosse assassin stuff." 

"Lacrosse assassin?" Allison asked.

"We have an assassin on the lacrosse team, it would seem." Lydia explained. "And they’re planning to kill us tomorrow."

Stiles stared at her for a moment before it clicked that she was talking to Allison. Even when he had better hearing than werewolves, it seemed only Lydia would be able to hear her. He gave Lydia a thoughtful smirk before leaving the soundproof room to call Scott.

 

 


	20. Tiebreaker

"I hate this."

"What?" Scott asked. "The game, or the dead pool?"

"Both." Stiles groaned. "Why the hell are we playing a lacrosse game, when we should be running as far away from Beacon Hills as we can? How about we go live in Canada for a while? There’s no assassins up there."

"You and I just need to make sure Liam doesn’t get killed tonight. It should be doable. Those assassins sounded like they weren’t going to try and go after us."

"Yeah but what if a sniper happens to be in sight of the lacrosse field and he has an arsenal of wolfsbane darts, if a bullet through your head doesn’t kill you first?"

"You can be so pessimistic at times, Stiles."

"I prefer the term  _realist_.” He said only half-angry. “I just feel like we need to have all our bases covered and be prepared for anything…the problem is, there’s no way we  _can_ prepare for any of this…”

"There’s a lot of things we could never prepare for, Stiles, but somehow we’ve always turned out fine."

"Not all of us." Stiles said darkly, but quickly closed his eyes in regret and let out a hissed exhale. "I’m sorry, that was low-"

"No, you’re right, Stiles." Scott said with a grief in his dark eyes. "And that’s why I’m going to protect everyone. No one else dies. Everyone on that list, everyone on that dead pool. It doesn’t matter if they’re wendigos, or werewolves, or whatever. I’m gonna save everyone."

"I know you’re a true alpha and all, but Scott, that’s not possible." Stiles exhaled slowly. "You can’t possibly save everyone."

"I’m going to try." Scott said softly. "I have to do everything that I can."

Stiles offered him half a smirk. “Alright. But for tonight, let’s just focus on you, me, and Kira not getting killed, and preventing anyone from killing Liam. And let’s hope no one goes after Lydia, Malia, and Isaac.”

"I’m sure they’ll be fine at the lake house. Argent gave them some ammunition to deal with anything, supernatural or not."

Stiles laughed. “The image of Lydia holding a rifle is so amusing in my mind.”

"Focus, Stiles."

"Right."

"Liam told me that Garrett paid for the keg at Lydia’s party, and Demarco was killed that night, so he might be our assassin."

"I never liked that guy."

"So I’m going to stay close to Liam, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, while Kira keeps an eye on Garrett. Since you’ll probably sit on the bench, you’re going to watch and…" Scott smiled mischievously. "…make  _adjustments_ , as you see fit.”

"Ah, so you’re giving me permission to have Garrett’s lacrosse stick whack into his face as many times as I please?"

"Something like that."

"Excellent."

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Since  _Lahey_  decided to be sick on our first big game of the season-” Finstock said with dramatic motions of his arms, “I’m going to have to make do with you,  _Stilinski!_ ”

"What?"

"That’s right, it’s your lucky day!  _You’re_  on the field! But don’t thank me, thank _Lahey!_ Don’t give me that ‘who me’ expression!”

Once Coach was out of ear shot, Stiles turned to Scott, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “WhatdoIdo???”

Scott calmly raised an eyebrow. “You play lacrosse.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “ _Clearly_. What do you want me to  _really_  do? Pull back? Get close and personal? I haven’t played lacrosse with my…my new condition. What happens when I load up on everyone’s strife and pain out there? What if I explode all over everyone?”

"You’re not going to explode."

"Great. Your words are very encouragingggg-" Stiles trailed off as he focused on the name of a jersey on the opposing team, his jaw slowly dropping.

"What is it?"

"Talbot. I know that name because I’ve seen it before." He turned to face Scott. "Brett Talbot. _He’s_  on the dead pool, not Liam. He’s the one Garrett is after.”

"Shoot…" The whistle blew and everyone got out to the field to start the game. "Just…focus on Brett. I’ll focus on Liam, and Kira will watch Garrett."

They both stood up, Kira running over to their side. 

"You guys ready for this?" She jumped up and down a few times.

"Not at all." Stiles muttered.

"Me neither!" Kira sounded a little too enthusiastic despite her words. "Let’s go!"

"Wait, Kira!" Scott grabbed her shoulder before she could run off. "Brett Talbot, on the other team, he’s on the dead pool. Stiles is going to watch him while I watch Liam, but you stick to keeping an eye on Garrett, alright? But be aware that Brett is also a target tonight."

Kira nodded excitedly. “Alright! Another challenge!”

She bounded off towards the field and Stiles turned his head to give Scott an exasperated expression. “She’s optimistic.”

"She’s the ideal optimist while you’re the ideal pessimist. And I thought you and Kira would be similar."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" 

"You’re both foxes but…very  _different_  foxes.”

"Yeah yeah yeah, and you’re a true alpha. So shut up."

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Dude, I can’t concentrate at all." Stiles heaved next to Scott as they reformed. "Even if I wanted to have Garrett’s stick hit him in the face, I’d have to stop running around wondering if someone’s going to stab me."

"Just try and relax, we’re almost done with second quarter and then it’ll be halftime. How’s Brett?"

Stiles half sighed, half growled. “He keeps beating me up. What about Liam?”

"I think he’s doing alright…I’ve had to tackle him a couple of times to keep his wolf under control. But it’s progress."

"Alright, let’s just survive the next half of the game."

Stiles could feel the energy jostling inside his veins like electricity, burning to be released. He kept telling himself that he just had to make it to halftime, and then he could release some of the pressure underneath his skin.

"Your little anger management kid? Is hella amusing." Brett said with a grin as they positioned for stand-off.

"Oh yeah, Liam? He provides great entertainment." Stiles responded dryly.

"Why’d your captain assign you to block me? Poor matching on his part."

"Why are yooou…sooooo demeaning?" Stiles raised his brows.

Before Brett could answer him, the whistle blew and Stiles was knocked onto the ground, releasing a groan. He got back up and chased after Brett, quickly catching up as he yelled, tackling him down. Then there was cheering as Kira scored, but Coach blew the whistle and called her name.

Stiles ran over to Scott, his tone worried. “Coach just benched Kira because she didn’t pass. Now what do we do?”

Scott moaned in frustration. “Liam’s about to have his claws come out any minute, so you’ll have to watch Brett and Garrett!”

"Great, so I have to watch the assassin and the victim."

"And make sure you don’t get killed."

“ _Right_.”

"Stilinski!" Coach called from the bleachers. Stiles had a cold sweat run down his neck at the idea of being benched, leaving three problems in Scott’s hands. When he ran closer, Coach furrowed his brows at him. "Since when the hell could you run like  _that?!_ ”

"Uhhhmmm…" He floundered. "Since about two weeks ago?"

"Don’t be a smartass. Stop blocking because you suck at that. I want you to be open to passing and pass the darn ball. Let’s just hope your aim is as good as your speed."

"Okay Coach." Stiles sighed as he returned to the field. He had to do what he was told otherwise he would get pulled off the field, and Scott needed all the help he could get. But Stiles didn’t like the idea of focusing on scoring instead of keeping everyone alive. Priorities were important sometimes.

Returning to the game, Stiles couldn’t find Brett till a minute later when he saw him tackling Liam to the ground. Stiles could hear the sound of bones cracking. Coach blew the whistle as everyone rushed toward the scene, everything happening so fast as Stiles tried to drown out the drumming in his ears.

"Liam, shh, hold still." Scott whispered as he set Liam’s arm back in place, eliciting a scream from the beta. Everyone rushed over to see what had happened, but Stiles whipped his head toward the sound of a blade retracting.

Garrett made eye contact with him, his eyes cold. Stiles rushed over to Scott and Liam, whispering fervently, “Did Garrett nick him? I heard his blade sheath.”

"No, I’m fine, just my arm." Liam answered.

Looking around frantically, Stiles saw paramedics pulling Brett off the field. “Shit.”

He ran after the beta, but Garrett blocked him, pressing the end of his stick against Stiles’ neck with great pressure. “You don’t want to be doing that.” Garrett said warmly, offering a cool smile.

"If I were you, I wouldn’t be holding that so close to my artery."

"Yeah? I heard foxes don’t heal as easily as wolves do."

"Have you heard how easy it is for me to obliterate you?"

"Certainly. Which is why killing you, will be exceptionally fun."

"You have a strange taste in extracurricular activities."

"And if your friends come any closer," He jerked his head towards the approaching Scott, "And I know they can hear me, then I’ll let my hand slip on the trigger here."

Scott froze for fear of Garrett removing his friend’s throat. Stiles glared at Garrett till Coach blew the whistle, forcing them to go back into formation. Garrett slowly lowered his stick, and Stiles kept his gaze for a moment longer before bolting off towards the direction Brett was taken.

He could feel Garrett’s feet pounding behind him, Scott calling his name in the distance, but he wasn’t worried. He was already in the school. He could outrun the assassin any day.

That is, until Garrett spear-launched the lacrosse stick into his back.

Falling hard on the ground with a moan, Stiles telekinetically yanked the blade out with a wince, pulling off his helmet and gloves so he could make use of his fangs and claws. Before he could thrust the blade, Garrett was already on top of him, hands pressed against his neck. Stiles dug his claws into Garrett’s arms, warm blood pooling around his obsidian fingers. 

Releasing him with a scream, Garrett grabbed his blade again, slamming it down at Stiles’ face, but he rolled away just in time to avoid the blow. Stiles swung out a leg to trip Garrett down to the ground. They wrestled, the blade constantly finding close encounters with both of their necks.

When Garrett slammed his elbow hard against the spot on Stiles’ abdomen that pressed into the stab wound on his back, he sputtered out blood in a cry of pain, allowing Garrett a brief opening. He took that window to thrust the blade through Stiles’ chest.

Stiles’ scream echoed through the hallways, his eyes burning. He calculated if he was going to survive this wound, he needed to cause Garrett pain, and fast. When Garrett released the blade, Stiles launched forward with a snarl, fully sinking his teeth into Garrett’s neck. He could taste the scream in his throat, giving him a rush of euphoria as the strife washed through his bones.

With a twist of his fangs, Stiles released him from his jaws, panting heavily as he fell off of him like a dead weight. Stiles grabbed the blade and chucked it far down the hall, then collapsed onto his back with a shout of pain, his mouth full of blood and his body slowly weakening as the shock crept into his veins.

Scott was kneeling at his side, his face white as a sheet. “Stiles!”

"Don’t worry about me-" He coughed weakly. "I’ll live, but Brett might not." He gestured with his eyes the direction. "Go!"

Scott held his hand a moment longer before he left, releasing some of the tension coiled in his chest. Stiles could feel his fox ears pinning back as he focused on trying to breathe.

 

 

»»««

 

 

Brett convulsed wildly on one operating table as Derek and Scott tried to hold him down so Deaton could remove the wolfsbane, while Stiles was screaming on another table where Kira pressed a cloth against his open chest.

"Stiles! Stay with me!" Kira applied more pressure, blood oozing around the gaps of her fingers, eliciting another scream from Stiles. "Melissa will be here soon to fix you."

Between strained breaths Stiles spoke. “I don’t think - there’s anything - she can do at this point -” He hissed, clenching his jaw. “I need to just transform - so I can heal!” 

"Then transform!" Kira urged. "Whatever will cause you less pain!"

"I’m _scared_ , Kira!” Stiles panted. “I don’t trust myself - you can never - trust a fox…not - not my kind, at least…”

"I trust you." She looked down at him, her expression stoic. "Lydia trusts you. Scott trusts you. Is that not enough?"

"Trust won’t keep - me from killing you." 

Stiles noticed Brett was silent, and he now heard Peter’s voice in the clinic. Deaton walked over to Stiles to examine his wounds, followed by Scott. Kira released her hands as Stiles simultaneously released a strained yell. 

"Is he healing?" Scott asked the druid.

"I’m not sure." He pulled out a pair of scissors to carefully remove Stiles’ shirt, being cautious with the areas where the fabric invaded his raw wounds. Stiles released a small shriek when Deaton pulled out the part of his shirt that was inside of him. "It’s hard to tell with his kind."

"Stiles said so himself that he’ll live, but it doesn’t look like he’s healing." Scott turned to face Stiles, who was breathing laboriously. "Stiles, do you feel like you’re healing?"

"Feel like I’m  _dying!_ " 

"Stiles, you have one of two options." Deaton said calmly. "Either we try to heal you the best we can right now, but I won’t have anything to knock you out. Or…you turn, and we heal you that way."

"Nnnngggah, what if - I hurt everyone - again?!" 

Derek and Peter entered the room, standing at the end of the operating table. “Shouldn’t he turn though?” Derek asked. “That’s an ability specific to foxes, so I would assume that’s their method of healing. Resisting the shift is suicide.”

"Doesn’t a werewolf’s touch trigger their shift?" Peter asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, I helped Stiles shift last time he resisted it." Scott explained. 

"Well then the answer’s easy isn’t it?" Peter asked casually before grasping Stiles’ arm and pinning it down, Derek protesting a "Peter no!", but he held back his nephew with his spare arm.

Stiles erupted with a howl of pain, his eyes burning teal as he glared at Peter, the transformation taking over his shaking body before Scott could attempt to stop Peter. He felt himself pulled backwards as the fox within clawed deep into his mind. He couldn’t resist the transformation, but he tried to will away the feral intoxication. 

Once he had an arsenal of sharp teeth, however, he didn’t hesitate to start snarling viciously at Peter. 

"Woah Stiles-" Scott grabbed him by the scruff and pulled him back before he could pounce the werewolf. "Let’s get you healed first, then you can maul Peter all you like."

Peter shot Scott a dirty look. “I was doing him a favor.”

 _Favor!_  Stiles spat the word telepathically.  _I’ll give you a favor!_

With a jolt shivering across his body, Stiles coughed up blood, the crimson dripping from his jaws in thick tendrils. He panted heavily a few times before falling over onto his side, jaws parted as his breaths shuddered.

Scott’s eyes widened. “I can take away his pain.” He saw his veins darken as his hand remained on Stiles’ shoulder.

"Well, he’s fully transformed," Kira mused, "so that shouldn’t be a problem."

"I thought…I just thought that since wolves and foxes don’t get along that I wouldn’t even be able to take away his pain anymore…"

"Stiles healed Derek back at Lydia’s lake house. So if he can heal wolves, it makes sense that you’re able to take away his pain. Maybe there doesn’t have to be divide between wolves and foxes."

Scott smiled at her, his eyes hopeful. “Maybe not.”

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Hey Stiles."

Stiles blinked groggily to find Scott looking down at him, the back of his hand idly stroking along his spine. Too tired to concentrate properly, he moaned a fox whine to acknowledge him.

"Are you feeling any better? Your dad wanted you to talk to him at the station." Scott explained.

His ears perked up, but he remained lying on his side.  _Mmm? What is that supposed to mean?_

"He couldn’t talk about it, so I’m thinking something supernatural happened. Or maybe something to do with the Argents hunting you. Either way he said no one can see you like this right now."

 _Great._  Stiles pulled himself up onto all fours with a frustrated growl. He parted his jaws to yawn before looking at Scott with a tilt of his head. _I feel like death, but I’ll manage. How am I going to get into the police station though? It’s not like people have pet foxes._

Scott’s eyes grew ashamed, his mouth frowning slightly. “How claustrophobic are you?”

_I’m not hiding in your jacket._

"That’s not what I meant. You’re way too big for that anyway."

_Yeah, it wouldn’t exactly be subtle. Are you calling me fat?_

"Nnnnooo…you’re just…a lot bigger than a cat, Stiles."

_You look like you’re going to explode from guilt, so hurry up and tell me what it is you’re so reluctant to reveal._

Scott placed an animal carrier on the table with the most apologetic face Stiles had ever seen. Stiles stared at the carrier for a moment before drooping his ears.

_I hate you._

"I know I know…but do you have any better ideas?"

_Not exactly. But won’t that draw attention when people notice there’s a fox inside?_

"Would you rather I shoved you in a duffle bag? I figured this would be more comfortable."

 _Comfort is kind of irrelevant at this point._  Stiles huffed. _I’ll take the less comfortable route if it prevents getting animal control involved._

Scott looked hesitant. “Alright…We need to hurry though, Your dad sounded worried. Does it hurt to walk?”

 _It hurts to breathe. So…yeah._ Stiles could tell the wound in his back was already starting to heal, but the hole in his chest still felt raw and empty. He wanted to claw at the stitches, but Deaton had done a thorough job of wrapping his injuries.

"Is it alright if I carry you?" Scott asked.

_Yeah yeah yeah. Just try not to touch anywhere near my sternum._

 

 

»»««

 

 

The transfer over to the Sheriff’s office was anything but easy. Stiles hated riding in cars as a fox, and he found being transported in a duffle bag was even worse. When Scott set the bag down on the ground in the Sheriff’s office, Stiles leaped out of there as fast as he could, swaying slightly as he tried to regain his balance.

Stiles sat down behind the desk so no one outside the office would see him.  _Hey dad._ He greeted lazily.

"Hey…how you doing kiddo?" John thought the telepathic communication was strange at first, but like with anything supernatural, he adjusted.

 _Just, you know. Healing._  Stiles whined.  _Slowly. Agonizingly._

"What was it you needed to tell us?" Scott interjected.

"I think….we have some kind of fox problem." Sheriff replied. "I don’t know. Do you guys know of any other werefoxes or kitsune or whatever there is out there?"

Stiles and Scott looked at each other before returning their attention to John. “Just Stiles and the Yukimuras.” Scott answered. “Why?”

"One of our suspects somehow escaped, but he left all his clothes."

Stiles let out an irritated growl.  _I thought I killed him._

"What?" The Sheriff looked at his son with a look of bewilderment.

 _It sounds like Garrett’s a werefox, but he wasn’t yesterday_. Stiles lowered his ears in guilt.

"Garrett tried killing Stiles yesterday," Scott explained, "and I guess he bit him, and it turned him. So this means Garrett is running around as a fox."

 _I bit his throat. I thought for sure it would have killed him. Course, I didn’t have a whole lot of concentration since I was just stabbed, so I probably missed his vitals._  Stiles stood up on all fours, his tail lashing in agitation. _I did this. I need to find him and make sure he doesn’t kill anyone._

"Stiles, he tried killing you!" John said frantically, his voice laced with worry. "Who’s to say he won’t try doing it again?"

 _Because I’m his only hope of surviving now. It won’t be long till he’s on the dead pool as well. Ironyyy._  Stiles made a scoffing noise that was interpreted as a fox laugh.  _I have to do this. I have to find him. I turned him, so…it’s only fair that I try and help him._

"Stiles, you don’t have to do this." Scott pleaded. "Garrett tried to kill you, and he’s probably going to do it again."

_I don’t care. There’s a bunch of assassins and hunters trying to kill me, so what difference does it make? Scott, if you found out there was another person out there who was just like you, wouldn’t you want to at least talk to him?_

Scott was silent, his gaze sympathetic. “Alright, well I’m at least going with you.”

_Like hell you are. Remember what happened last time you chased a werefox who shifted for the first time?_

Scott exhaled. “Oh yeah.”

Suddenly Stiles stiffened and pinned his ears back, his eyes flashing teal.  _I know_ exactly _where he is._

Without any warning, Stiles bolted out of the room, opening the doors with his mind as he sped out of the police station. He could hear Scott and his father calling his name behind him, but there was no way they could keep up. He had to find Garrett before he accidentally killed animal control, or before the Argents captured him and figured out a way to kill werefoxes, or before  _Void_ found him.

He really wished he had sunk his teeth deeper into his throat.

 

 

»»««

 

 

His heart stung with every rapid beat pounding inside his wound, but the adrenaline helped numb the pain, so Stiles ran faster. If his intuition was right, which it usually was, Garrett ran to the same place Stiles ran to when he first turned; as far into the forest as possible.

And he knew deep within the trees there were still animal traps.

And even worse, Void.

When he saw a fox with it’s back right leg clamped within the jaws of a trap, Stiles felt his heart sink into his stomach. Upon closer approach, he saw the fox was a cross fox, an interesting combination of gray, amber, and black in its fur pattern. When he saw the fox’s eyes, they were the same icy blue that belonged to his offender. 

 _Garrett._  His voice cut coldly into the frightened fox’s mind.

The fox hissed at him, but even though he was yapping in fox language, Stiles understood him. “How the hell are you- what are- YOU!  _You_ did this to me!”

 _Yeah, well, don’t try and kill me next time jackass._  Stiles felt little to no sympathy despite his desperate situation. 

"How are you talking to me in my mind?!"

 _It’s something called telepathy. Look it up._  He spoke to Garrett now in a language that would freak him out less, his words harsh and laden with growls. “Listen up. I don’t exactly like the situation we’re both stuck in here, but you need to trust me.”

"Trust you!!" Garrett laughed. "Why would I trust the one who ruined my life?!"

"Because you know NOTHING!" Stiles snapped his jaws at him, ears pinned back. "There’s a demonic thousand year old fox spirit running around who will loooove to meet you, and there’s a whole family of supernatural hunters who have a specific and passionate vendetta against werefoxes! They will find you and capture you and torture you, and believe me, being tortured as an animal is a hell of a lot worse than being tortured as a human."

"I still have no reason to trust you. You  _turned_  me!”

"Yeah and if you don’t trust me, someone else is going to turn you into something a lot more painful than a _fox!_ " He snarled, half-way considering leaving the ungrateful jerk to die in the woods alone. The gnawing thought came back to him that if he left Garrett here to die, it would only complicate his problems further. "At this point, I’m the only one who can save you."

"That’s ironic."

"I am painfully aware of that fact." Stiles growled dryly. "So if I free you and save your ass, promise you won’t try and kill me till we at least sort things out? Oh and so you are aware, I have the upper hand- er, paw- at the moment, so if you even think about deceiving me I will  _destroy_  you. Understood?”

Garrett pinned his ears back, releasing a low hiss as he held Stiles’ gaze a moment longer. “Fine.”

Stiles relaxed the tension in his muscles slightly as he straightened up, focusing his gaze on the trap as he willed it to move. The contraption slowly released its grip on Garrett’s leg, and he limped forward with a whine. Once he was safely away, Stiles stopped concentrating and the trap shut with a resounding clang. 

"Shit, I think it’s broken…" Garrett winced, keeping all weight off his hind leg.

"At least your innards aren’t spilling open."

"Voice of experience?"

"Yah. Not fun. How many people saw you before you made it to the forest?"

"Not too many I don’t think. Just a bunch of confused police officers. Oh, and a few residents. And I bit a few officers."

"You bit-" Stiles moaned. "They might have already called animal control then. It’s only a matter of time. Let’s continue then in the direction you were heading. Can you limp on three legs?"

If foxes could look appalled, Garrett held the expression very clearly. “I can barely figure out how to walk on four legs let alone three!!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “God you suck at this.”

"I doubt you were any better at it!" Garret snapped.

"Actually it came relatively easy. But that’s because I had a werewolf a foot away from me so the instincts kicked in hard. Usually fear triggers the animal instincts, which is making me wonder, aren’t you terrified?"

"Somewhat. Need I remind you I’m an assassin?" 

"Ah. Right. Sadistic son of a bitch. Or should I say vixen?"

"Oh shut up." Garrett looked like he wanted to punch Stiles but couldn’t figure out how in this form. "I thought werefoxes couldn’t turn people."

"Technically," Stiles said with a tilt of his head. "We don’t. Usually the bite renders the victim insane for a few days. But we can turn anyone. They just have to…well… _already_ be insane.”

"That’s insulting."

"Don’t call the kettle black, dumbass." 

"Well how did you get turned?"

Stiles wheezed a fox sigh. “That’s a complicated story. Let’s worry about getting out of this forest alive first.”

"I won’t argue against that."

"Good. I’m not exactly fond of the idea of dragging your unconscious body with my teeth."

"Can’t you just move me telekinetically?"

"That requires chaos, and I don’t have much of it because I’ve been healing, thanks to you."

"Chaos? I don’t understand, how do you obtain chaos?"

"Can we save the 20 questions till we’re in a less life-threatening situation?" Stiles stiffened, ears rotating in various directions, Garrett stopping next to him. 

"What?"

"Shut up." Stiles could have sworn he heard a familiar noise, but it wasn’t till he heard the sound of an arrow being drawn fully taut that it clicked in his mind. He slammed into Garrett’s side just in time to avoid the long arrow now protruding out of the ground. 

"Run!" Stiles hissed, but Garrett pinned his ears back as his breathing quickened.

"I can’t!" 

Stiles growled. “Fine! Stay still.” He focused on Garrett’s leg, imagining where the break in his bone could have been, and wishing he had bothered to study fox anatomy before now. His heart raced frantically as he heard another arrow pulled from a quiver. With a sickening crack and a scream eliciting from Garrett’s jaws, Stiles knew they would be easy to find now.

"I think I kind of fixed it. Either way, get on your feet otherwise-"

Before Stiles could finish, an arrow pinned him against the ground, skewering through his left shoulder and out the right side of his chest. The shock washed over his senses so heavily that Stiles didn’t even whimper at the impact, everything slowly died as his terror intensified. 

Darkness flooded his vision as he heard several shouts from all directions, but his heart beat more painfully when he heard a familiar voice approaching the scene, filled with a vicious determination.

_Lydia…_

 

 


	21. Almost

Stiles awoke to a stinging pain that wracked his whole system, setting his nerves on fire and causing his bones to ache. The panic shifted his systems into overdrive as he bolted onto all fours, panting frantically as he moved around wildly, realizing he was confined, trapped.

He was trapped and bleeding to death.

"Would you calm down? You’re freaking me out." Came a subtle voice from his left, and when Stiles looked he saw Garrett in a cage next to him, lounging on his side like a calm house cat, but his lips were curled back in a sneer.

Stiles laid down with a wince as he tried to regulate his breathing. After a minute he succeeded, but he was uncertain he could ever get his heart to stop aching at a thousand miles an hour. “What happened? Where are we?”

Garrett released a noise that sounded like a sigh. “Animal control. They pulled out that arrow for you. It’s actually a good thing they caught us, because the alternative would have been the hunters you told me about. What was their name?”

"Argent."

” _Right_. Argents. You collapsed after you got nailed by one of them, but I was able to witness their confrontation. Oh and some crazy redhead with a bow and arrow came, along with your other freaky friends.”

"Strawberry blonde." Stiles corrected.

"What?"

"Nevermind. What happened exactly?"

"Animal control was pissed at the Argents for ‘hunting’ wildlife, and turned them over to the police because they didn’t have hunting licences." Garrett wheezed a laugh. "Your dad is going to get a kick out of that one."

"Probably." But Stiles wasn’t laughing. He didn’t like the idea of his dad having to deal with giving tickets to the people who were trying to kill him, when the Sheriff probably wanted to put them in jail. It was hard to argue they were trying to kill people when every time they went after Stiles he was a fox.

"Your friends tried to get animal control to take us to the local vet, but they were convinced the redhead was an unlicensed hunter as well, and assured them that they would ‘take care of us.’ Whatever the hell that means."

Stiles swallowed hard. “If animal control can’t safely relocate wildlife, they…they put the animals down.”

"Wait, what? Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I read reports in my dad’s office all the time."

"Well what if the animals are actually human?"

"We can’t tell them that."

"Can’t you use your magic mind talking thing?"

"Telepathy? Yeah, and to what end? Drive the workers here insane? That won’t do us any good.  _You_  actually have a good chance of getting out of this alive.”

"What do you mean?"

"You just have a broken leg." Stiles explained. "If an animal is too injured, animal control usually puts the animal down because they don’t have the money or resources to do intense surgery on wildlife. They might be able to relocate you. Me…I’m kind of a lost cause at this point."

"Don’t we heal at a supernatural pace though?"

"They don’t know that. I think I’ll live through this, but to their knowledge I won’t last another day at most." Stiles coughed, feeling the bile of blood in his mouth. He wondered what it would take at this point for him to fully heal. A few days? Weeks? Either way, he figured he’d have to stay a fox for a while.

"Can’t you bust us out of here? With your…whatever it’s called."

"I’m  _dying_ , Garrett.” Stiles tried to say it light heartedly, but it just came out cynical. “I’m just focusing on keeping myself from screaming, at the moment. If you want to try and escape, be my guest. But there’s little I can do for you let alone myself at this point.”

"You sure are a defeatist."

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes to rest. “Realist, I prefer realist. However, knowing my friends and how stubborn they can be, they’re probably executing an escape plan right now. Or at least formulating it. My dad’s the Sheriff and my best friend’s boss is a Veterinarian, so they should be able to do something. Hopefully.”

"I don’t like relying on others."

"I’ve noticed."

"So shouldn’t we plan our own escape in case your friends fall short?"

Stiles twitched his whiskers in irritation, keeping his eyes closed. “We could. Or you could shut up so I can rest for a few more minutes.”

"You’ve been resting long enough! Can’t you speed up your supernatural healing or something?"

"If I had a method for doing that, I would have done it already." Stiles answered irksomely. 

Garrett was quiet for a few minutes, much to Stiles’ relief. He breathed slowly and deeply, allowing himself to heal as he relaxed against the cool metal bars of his confinement. After deafening his senses with the sound of his heartbeat, he tuned in to the frequencies around him, the voices of employees, the whines of various animals, the shuffling of feet, the clanging of opening and closing doors, the clacking of keyboards. He couldn’t hear anything interesting, anything that could be of use.

He raised himself up to rest on his forearms, leaning his head against the door of his cage. “Alright. Time to teach you some trade secrets.”

"Is this where my 20 questions come in?" Garrett asked with a flick of his ears.

"Something like that. First I need to explain chaos. It’s what we feed of off, it’s our source of energy. Chaos, pain, and strife. If those surround you, you’ll feel a surge of power flowing through your veins." Stiles was terrified about what Garrett would turn into from such energy, but it was their only option of survival.

"How do I feed off of the chaos though?"

"You don’t do anything, you just have to be near it. You can suck more of it from people if you touch them, but you don’t want to touch werewolves anymore."

"And why is that?"

"When our kind touches a werewolf, we involuntarily shift. It can…be problematic, to say in the least."

"I don’t have any werewolf friends." Garrett retorted.

"Yeah, well you can’t try killing them now either, unless you plan on killing them as a fox." Stiles spat back. "Back to my point, the easiest way for our kind to feed off of chaos is to inflict it, and the quickest way to do that is by biting."

He could see the gears clicking in Garrett’s blue eyes as he snarled. “That’s why you bit me after I stabbed you.”

"Causing chaos is also the fastest way to heal. And I was dying, thanks to you."

"You sure are thanking me for a lot of things."

"It’s not out of gratitude. Anyways," He coughed, feeling more blood rise up his throat. "our best bet is to bite whoever comes and gets us."

"What if that just turns them?"

"It’s unlikely." Stiles flicked his ears in irritation. "You just happened to be a rare case. Werefoxes usually go around biting a lot of people on the full moon, it’s part of the reason why people are superstitious about people going crazy on the full moons, because werefoxes kind of make that happen."

"So what is it that we both have that qualify us for turning instead of the normal route of temporary insanity?"

Garrett’s question caught Stiles off guard, and as he pinned his ears back in thought, he had to wonder what tied him to the psychotic teenage assassin. “I don’t know…Derek said I need to figure out what makes me a fox instead of a wolf, and that would make all of this easier. And I don’t think I’ve figured that out yet.”

"Well foxes are tricksters, right?"

Stiles wondered if Garrett studied the supernatural creatures he set out to kill. “Yeah, some of them anyways.”

"Well, are you a trickster?"

Stiles licked his lips. “I don’t think so…not enough to stand out as a distinct fox trait, anyway.”

"If I recall you’re hella smart. Maybe that has something to do with it."

Stiles wasn’t sure if the churn in his stomach was from Garrett’s form of a compliment, or if it was just pain from nearly dying. He figured if he were human he would have blush in his cheeks. Being a fox had some perks - some emotions weren’t so easily given away. “What makes you think I’m smart?”

"You’re in higher level classes. Whether or not you do well in those classes is another part entirely, but merely getting into those classes proves something. Aren’t foxes smarter than wolves?"

"In their own ways. Both have their strengths and weaknesses." Stiles remarked. He didn’t want to say wolves were stupid, because they certainly weren’t, but foxes had a sort of precision about their methods. "Wolves work in packs, so teamwork and communication are vital. Foxes work alone, so they have to use their cunning to survive on their own. That’s probably why foxes specialize in mental abilities over supernatural strength, because we use wit over brute force."

"That makes sense. So are we both just…clever?"

"Something along those lines." Stiles still had little to no idea what it was exactly that made him what he was, but maybe alongside Garrett he would eventually figure it out. His ears perked up. "Someone’s coming. Act calm and wait for the opportune moment." Garrett nodded.

"We were wondering about the red fox, because it looks as if he was already injured but healed by someone before we found him." A male worker explained to a female one.

They stood in front of the cages, staring at them. “And this one,” The woman pointed to Garrett, “Was injured in an animal trap?”

"Looks like it, but somehow he got out. I already reset the bone and wrapped his back leg. But this one," He nodded towards Stiles. "I’m not sure he’s going to make it. But it seems like someone tried healing him, professionally too. So I’m wondering if he’s someone’s pet."

"Who would have a pet fox?"

"I don’t know, but it’s odd. If it were a vet that treated him, they wouldn’t release him back into the wild yet, he’s still healing. If it were a civilian, they wouldn’t have done such a good job on treating his wounds."

"What should we do with him then?"

"I think I want to try healing him some more." The guy explained. "What if he is someone’s pet? We can’t just put him down. We could get sued." 

"Isn’t it illegal to have wildlife as pets?"

"They could still win the case. I know it’s not our duty to save every injured animal, especially ones that are lost causes, but we don’t ever get wild animals that are already partially treated for their injuries. Which is why I think we need to try a little harder on this guy."

Stiles looked over at Garrett with a concern in his amber gaze. 

"Fine, I’ll help you. But what about the cross fox?"

"We’ll leave him here for now. These two foxes were found together, so we should keep them together. Animals can die of depression you know."

"Oh don’t get soppy with me." She elbowed him. "Is he vicious?" 

"I think he’s too weak to fight back, you should be fine."

 _Change of plans!_  Stiles frantically threw the words into Garrett’s mind.  _They’re not releasing you yet, and if I bite them now, my body will just absorb that chaos to heal myself, I won’t be able to free you from your cage. I’ll let them operate on me, and hopefully we can figure out something when I return._

Garrett whined. “What if they take me away before you get back?”

_Use your head. That’s all there is to it._

"Great. Don’t die in the procedure."

 _I’ll try not to._  The woman opened his cage and with reassuring words and slow hands, stroked his head and gently grabbed the scruff of his neck. She was probably wondering why the fox wasn’t bothering to sniff her hand first, and Stiles reprimanded himself for not acting the part. He forgot he was a fox sometimes.

Being held by the scruff was the weirdest sensation. It was as if the woman grabbed all his nerves and shut them down so he couldn’t move. His legs and tail curled inwards towards his body, and his muscles stiffened yet relaxed at the same time. It was as if he had been petrified, and he thought it was the dumbest weakness a creature could have.

"You’re right, he is cooperative." She remarked. 

"Fighting against us would probably hurt too much. Poor thing." 

 _Yeah, poor thing._  Stiles thought to himself mockingly.  _Why am I always getting injured and having to go through surgery?_  He thought being a were would have the perks of supernatural healing, but he was cursed to supernaturally heal everyone but himself. He would have released a snarl of annoyance, but the way the woman held him, he couldn’t.

When the woman set him down on an operating table and held him down, a horrifying realization hit him hard.  _They probably don’t have anything strong enough to knock me out._  He inwardly groaned, preparing himself for the worst.

Something was injected into his neck, but Stiles knew it wouldn’t do anything. At least there was a slight reassurance that it would be more bearable as a fox than human. When the bandages were removed, Stiles closed his eyes and tried to think about anything other than the hands touching his wounds.

"There was some kind of poison on the arrow that hit him." The male’s word’s caused Stiles to perk his ears slightly. 

"What kind of poison?"

"It looks like letharia vulpina."

"Makes sense, it’s poisonous to foxes."

No wonder that arrow completely knocked me out, Stiles mused. He wondered how long he and Garrett were trapped here. Time was elusive to him at the moment from all the injuries as of late. 

"Looks like the poison barely missed his heart." The guy announced, Stiles released a strained whine as the worker tugged at his flesh. He reckoned the poison still went to his heart, but knowing that it only poisons him temporarily, he probably already overcame the toxin. 

"Is there some kind of antibiotic we should give him?" 

"Yep, this stuff." A few seconds later Stiles felt liquid heat pressing into his wound, and he wanted to scream. He could feel the blood rising in his throat again, his heart pounding like a sledgehammer, his lungs collapsing. 

They worked on him even more, fully cleaning his wound and stitching the skin at the entry and exit holes, and carefully bandaging over the stitches. Another needle was pressed into his neck to give him some kind of pain killer, but Stiles doubted it would prove effective. 

He never thought he’d be happy to be returned to a cage.

"Good, you’re back. When do you think your friends will get here?" Garrett yapped at him.

Stiles slumped completely onto the floor, refusing to move or open his eyes. The letharia vulpina must have been doing a number on his systems, because he could feel the electric pain in his nerves slowly fading - the antibiotics were helping him somewhat. As for the rest of his injuries, they still ached, his heart feeling on the verge of disintegration and his lungs tight under pressure. 

"Stiles? You alive?"

"Barely." He whined. 

"I think my leg is fully healed. I can put weight on it now."

"That’s great." Stiles said unenthusiastically.

"Why aren’t you healing?"

Stiles made an irritated scoffing noise. “Need I remind you I have two holes in my chest? Both dangerously close to my heart? Oh, and the arrow had letharia vulpina on it, apparently.”

"I thought that stuff was ineffective."

"It doesn’t slow us down so much as it does cause us immense pain. It’s not exactly useful for trying to kill a fox, but it is for torturing it. It’s no wonder I didn’t notice it because I was in too much pain to realize."

"Well…what does kill a fox…exactly?"

"Now you’re so eager to find out because you are one, eh?"

"No! I- well, yeah. Yes, I’d like to find out what will kill me, is that so bad?"

Stiles made a hissing noise that sounded like a snicker. “Just pulling your leg. I honestly have no idea. The Argents tortured me with a ton of different stuff, but I had no idea what each syringe contained. None of them killed me though, but plenty of them rendered me useless.”

"The Argents tortured you?"

"Yeah. And don’t flatter yourself - one of the only reasons I saved your ass was to save my own. I don’t want the Argents to take you and figure out a way to kill me."

Garrett pinned his ears back in frustration. “I kind of figured you had some kind of motive like that. I was beginning to wonder why you came for me at all.”

"There’s also an evil fox spirit. He possessed me for a while. You don’t want to get mixed up with him."

"You were possessed?"

"Yeah, before I was turned."

"You sure get around."

"Shut up."

"You said how you got turned is a long story…did it have to do with being possessed?"

Stiles barked a laugh. “No. Well, yes. But getting turned had nothing to do with the fact that Void possessed me. Being possessed by a fox doesn’t turn you into one. But umm…I’m not an expert on any of this, but somehow during my possession Void and I split? And there were two of us. I was free from his grasp, but he was now in a replica of my body. It was the weirdest thing, let me tell you.”

"So a crazy serial killer was running around with your face?"

"Pretty much. And Scott and I, we figured out that by changing the host, you can get rid of the spirit, so Scott bit Void. Kira also stabbed him, and we thought we had killed him, but I had a mirror bite mark on my arm, and obviously, it healed. And then I turned."

"And you didn’t get a mirror stab mark."

"No…and I still don’t understand why…that’s something I’ll have to ask Kira about."

"And this Void spirit…is still around?"

"You can never trust a fox." Stiles whined in pain as he shifted his position. "He fooled us into thinking he was gone. Turns out Scott biting him was all a part of his plan for me to turn."

"Did he know you’d be a fox?"

"Apparently."

Garrett was silent a moment, but then perked up again. “Do you know how to shift back?”

Stiles flicked his ears as he tried to think of a response. “Sort of.”

"What do you mean, sort of??"

"I don’t exactly have it down to a science, yet." Stiles let out a long exhale. "You need chaos in order to shift. And then you just have to imagine yourself as human. That’s what seems to work for me." 

"Just…imagine yourself human." Garrett sounded unimpressed.

Stiles opened his eyes to glare at him. “Well not right now, dumbass. You’d become a splattered human.”

"I know that! I’m just thinking about what to think about when that time comes."

"Just - don’t think about that kind of stuff too hard. You’re making me paranoid. I don’t want to see your innards all over the place."

"I don’t have any chaos - at least I don’t think I do - so I shouldn’t be able to shift anyway, right?"

"I don’t know. What do I look like?"

"You look like you know more about this than I do!"

Stiles sighed. “News flash. I don’t. I’ve pretty much told you everything I know, aside from using certain mind powers, but there’s no use in explaining that if you can’t practice it.”

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait. Preferably in silence." Stiles closed his eyes again as he lowered his head to rest. There wasn’t much they could do unless someone passed by with some strife or pain for them to feed of of, or if someone opened their cages. 

It appeared they would be alone for a while.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Would you stop pacing??" 

Stiles had to listen to the persistent clanking of Garrett’s claws against the metal floor as he walked back and forth in circles in his cage. 

"Sorry! I’m just…freaking out a little." 

"…you’re still doing it."

"Right." Garrett sat down and laid his forehead against the bars of the cage. Stiles could hear his heart beating frantically, and he realized the familiarity of the situation.

"Garrett, calm down." Stiles slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position.

He only growled in response. 

Stiles knew Garrett was slowly fading into the animal instincts, and soon he would become unresponsive as the ferociousness took over. 

"Garrett, you’re fine. Look at me. Relax, breathe in and out." His efforts were useless as Garrett refused to acknowledge him and began pacing his cage faster, whining incessantly. 

"Garrett, shut up! You’re going to get yourself into trouble!" 

The sound of a door opening distracted Stiles, but something smelt familiar. When he turned his head, he saw Scott, Lydia, and Malia sneak in with flashlights. 

"Scott! About time!" Stiles realized Scott wouldn’t understand that unless Lydia translated, so he switched over to telepathy.

"Stiles!" Scott stopped in front of the cages, Lydia and Malia following suit. "Are you alright?"

 _Somewhat. Garrett here is freaking out._  He explained.  _And neither of us have any chaos, so we can’t help any._

"It’s alright, we’ve got everything under control. Your dad is distracting them out front."

Garrett snarled at the three of them, fangs bared and tail lashing. 

"Why are we helping him?" Malia asked with a nod towards the cross fox.

 _Because I said so._  Stiles growled.  _Scott or Malia, one of you is going to have to carry him. He’s going to try and bite you. Hold him by the scruff though. Apparently that works wonders._

Scott opened Garrett’s cage and grabbed him as quickly as he could, while Lydia unlocked Stiles’ cage and carefully pulled him out, avoiding his injuries the best she could. Stiles pressed his face into Lydia’s shoulder, letting her sweet scent wash over his senses. 

"Malia, you’re going to have to open doors for us." Scott explained. The werecoyote nodded, leading the way out. 

 

 

»»««

 

 

The three of them snuck out without any interference, and Stiles felt like he could finally breathe again when they returned to the veterinary clinic. He laid on Lydia’s lap, and nothing felt nicer than the gentle stroke of her fingers along his spine. 

Deaton gave Garrett something that made him sluggish, nearly immovable, and was placed in an animal carrier till he calmed down. Malia observed him curiously as Scott sat next to Lydia to place a hand on Stiles’ side and absorb some pain.

"You’re in a lot of pain Stiles…"

 _I’m kind of used to it by now._  Even telepathically, his words came out groggily.

"What about Garrett?"

 _What_ about  _Garrett?_

"I mean, what are we going to do with him?" Scott asked, worried. "A couple days ago he was trying to kill all of us. Just because he’s a werefox now doesn’t mean he’s our ally."

_Yes, but he has no reason to kill us anymore. I doubt the benefactor will transfer money to someone who is on the dead pool._

"We don’t know if he’s on the dead pool." Lydia muttered. "I cracked the last third, and Liam and Malia are both on it, as we suspected. But there’s something else…"

Stiles recognized the hesitance in her voice, and knew it couldn’t be good.  _What, Lydia?_

"The key to crack the code…was Derek’s name."

Stiles stiffened, pinning his ears back.  _What does that mean?_

"We don’t know." Scott admitted. "But apparently Derek is slowly losing his powers."

 _His_  werewolf  _powers? Is he_  dying?

Lydia sighed. “Again, we don’t know. And I suspect Garrett will be put on the list soon. If werefoxes are worth as much as true alphas, there should be an adjustment soon.”

 _What I don’t get is how the benefactor knows all these people and what they are…how would they know Liam was turned? How would they know_ I _was turned?_

"Maybe someone is watching us." Scott remarked. "Or maybe there’s some supernatural creature we don’t know about that can know what people are, and they’re helping the benefactor."

"Guys!" Malia called. "Garrett’s getting up."

Stiles jumped out of Lydia’s lap and up onto the table to stare at the fox. “Garrett. Is your head clear now?” He yapped.

"Uughhhh…I think so…" He growled. "Where the hell am I?"

"We’re at the vet clinic, we’re safe, for now. But first we need to sort out some priorities."

"What are they saying?" Scott idly asked Lydia, but she held up her hands as she listened.

"Priorities, as in you helping me shift back?" Garrett asked.

"Priorities as in us coming to an agreement not to kill each other." Stiles barked in irritation.

"There’s no need for me to try and kill any of you anymore."

Stiles was surprised at the raw honesty behind Garrett’s words. He could tell he had no intention of deceit as his heart beat regularly to the rhythm of his promise. He thought he’d have to try harder than that to get him to cooperate.

"But I do have a request." Garrett whined. "Consider it your apology for turning me."

” _Apology!_ " Stiles spat, his teeth bared. "I did that out of  _self-defense_  because you were trying to  _kill_ me!”

"Yeah, well, regardless you turned me and didn’t intend to. Since you failed to end my miserable life, you can do a small favor for me in return."

Stiles growled for a moment, flicking his ears in frustration. “Fine.”

"You need to break out Violet."

"Violet?"

"My partner in crime. She’s my girlfriend, and she’s at the station right now."

"You want us to break out someone who is charged with  _murder?_ " Stiles almost laughed. "Do you have any idea how impossible that will be, for me, especially, without having some serious consequences? My dad’s the Sheriff, Garrett, in case you forgot."

"I’m well aware." Garrett snarled. "But with all the insanity that goes on in this town, breaking out a teenager without getting caught should be easy for you guys."

"Foxes sure sound funny." Scott remarked with a soft laugh. Stiles and Garrett both stared at him with unamused expressions.

 _Don’t make me bite you Scotty. I’m negotiating here._ Stiles huffed and returned his attention to Garrett. “And what exactly will you do with Violet once we rescue her? You can’t exactly hide a criminal for very long.”

"You wanna bet? How else do you think Violet and I have survived this long?"

"Point taken." Stiles growled softly. "How are you going to convince your beloved partner in crime to not kill us? She could still get money for our heads. Hell, she could get money for  _your_  head.”

Garrett was silent a moment, and by the look of his stiff posture he hadn’t thought that one through. “I’ll convince her.”

"You better, because if she tries to come after any of us, I won’t hesitate to kill her." 

"Stiles…" Lydia’s voice was soft but heavy with shock.

_Lydia, we’ve lost too much. We can’t afford to lose any more lives, and I certainly won’t be accountable for any more of it._

"It’s not like-" She began to protest, but he cut her off.

 _I’m not afraid to kill anymore, Lydia._ He looked up at her, his amber eyes broken as his ears lowered.  _I’ve killed enough already, but if I have to kill again to save any of you…I’m not scared about doing it anymore. We’re in too deep to have the luxury of upholding good morals. It’s kill or be killed, and I can’t watch any more of my friends die._

Lydia was silent, her eyes sad as she avoided his gaze, hugging herself tightly. Stiles felt slight remorse at the sight of her dejected reaction, but he returned his attention to Garrett. “Since you’re fully healed, I’ll help you transform.” 

 

 

»»««

 

 

Things never went quite how they expected.

Yet this time, the rug was completely pulled out from under their feet.

Garrett couldn’t shift back, even when Scott took him somewhere to feed off of some chaos. He was still too scared. When Scott, Isaac, and Malia went to break out Violet, Kate and her berserkers found her first, leaving her body to bleed out on the concrete. The news didn’t help Garrett at all, and Stiles had to fight him several times to keep his fox under control.

Derek, Isaac, and Malia found an entire pack of werewolves were killed, learning it was Satomi’s pack. Malia found out the truth of being Peter’s daughter, and no one had seen her since. Liam was having a hard time adjusting to being a werewolf, and Stiles was taking longer than usual to heal. 

 _Can anything worse happen?_  Stiles asked idly to the group one day.  _Are there any more complications we’re missing out on?_

"The PSATs are this Saturday." Scott muttered.

Stiles lashed his tail in agitation.  _What? You really think we’re going to go take a test in the middle of this dead pool nonsense?_

"We have to." Kira said. "If we don’t take it this year, we’ll be behind everyone else, and the next time to take it isn’t for another six months."

_In another six months we might not have people trying to kill us._

"Unlikely." Isaac stated matter-of-factly. "There’s always someone trying to kill us, this time we’re just aware of it."

"He has a point." Scott said. "I mean, I’d like to live a semi-normal life. I’d like to eventually go to college, get a good job. We can’t just ignore all of the other important parts of our lives."

_What about the very pressing and important part of our lives that involves staying alive?_

Scott frowned. “It’s just a test, Stiles. We can survive for three hours at the school, can’t we?”

_I suppose we’ll have to. I just need to hurry up and heal, and help Garrett transform._

 

 

»»««

 

 

Stiles had been a fox for nearly a week. When he asked Derek about it, he said he would have no trouble shifting once he stopped trying to be two things at once, and he couldn’t fully understand.

_"You need to stop being two things at once."_

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

 _"You’re trying too hard to be human_ and  _fox at the same time.” Derek had explained. “You’re confusing yourself. If you convince yourself you’re a fox, and understand that you are a fox, then you can start to understand what it takes to be human again.”_

So I have to try being a fox, and then try being human again?

_"How did Lydia help you transform last time?"_

_Stiles lowered his ears in embarrassment._ She helped me think and remember what it was like to have hands.

_"And at that time you probably could only think about how you had paws."_

_If Stiles had his human face he would have held a questioning expression._ So you’re telling me I need to convince myself I don’t have hands, so I can think about having hands again and that’ll make me shift?

_"Something along those lines, yes." Derek smiled faintly. "I think this is a problem for foxes because you’re all too smart to succumb to the animal instincts - you remember that you’re human, and that tie to your humanity when you’re in an animal form causes a duplicity that leaves you stuck. It’s illogical to be an animal when you’re thinking like a human, so you need to start thinking like an animal and only then can you pull yourself back up, so to speak."_

But what if I drown in the animal instincts?

_"That’s exactly what’s holding you back and preventing you from shifting." He stated, pointing a finger at the red fox. "Fear. Having that fear as a human transforms into an even worse fear as an animal, the fight or flight response. That’s why you ran from Scott when you first transformed, and that’s why you cast illusions on everyone the second time."_

How do I get rid of the fear?

_"That’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself, Stiles."_

Stiles stared out his window for a long time as that conversation mulled inside his head, wondering if he could let that fear go and become the animal he so strongly detested. The test was in a few days and he had to make an appearance, he had to heal. 

He had to shift.

He was reminded of something Kira mentioned, how foxes were messengers and that’s why they could run fast. Instead of growling around and biting people, maybe going for a run on all fours would lapse him into the animal mindset. Running on all fours was definitely an animalistic trait, and Stiles felt the need for a rush of adrenaline.

He couldn’t exactly run around main street, but the woods still held traps. He couldn’t risk the exposure, especially with so many assassins and hunters eyeing his reward on the dead pool, so he decided to risk the animal traps embedded in the forest. 

It would be a chance to also test his instincts at full capacity.

Stiles wondered if he had a death wish, or if it was like Lydia had said, he went big or he went home. 

Opening doors was incredibly easy despite the lack of opposible thumbs, and he started off toward the trees in an easy trot, nothing that would exert his physical stamina or hurt his healing injuries. He would have to wait till his heart was pounding faster before he ran any faster, relying on the adrenaline to numb his stab wounds. 

As Stiles increased his speed, the wounds seared like fire, yet he kept pounding his paws against the earth, pushing for speed as he weaved around trees and kept his senses on high alert for traps. 

If anyone saw him, they didn’t bother pursuing him.

 

 

»»««

 

 

"Stiles, where the hell have you…" Lydia burst into his room but stilled at the scene before her the question dying in her mouth. "…been." 

Crimson paw prints scattered about on the carpet, turning into lazy smears around Stiles’ body. He was curled on his side, back facing her with its raw, trenching scars. He was human, but when he turned his head to look at her, she saw his mouth was covered in blood, and on closer approach, his hands as well.

Stiles trailed his eyes to where Lydia’s confused gaze burned, to see his red hands as if waking up from a daze. “Uuugghhh…” His speech slurred as if he woke up from a hangover. 

"Stiles?" Lydia knelt beside him, placing a shaking hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"I think I took Derek’s advice." He moaned, pulled himself up into a sitting position, and then realizing his nudity, quickly grabbed a blanket from his mattress to cover himself up, cheeks flushing red.

Despite the gruesome stains on his face and hands, Lydia couldn’t stop staring at his exposed back, and Stiles suddenly felt subconscious. “What? Are you trying to make a shape out of the moles on my back?”

Lydia took a moment to snap out of her fixation and answer him. “No, you’re just…” Her fingers lightly touched the surface of the disturbances in his flesh. “You don’t heal…”

Stiles looked down at his chest as if he had to see the gruesome scars as confirmation, then returned his gaze to Lydia, his warm eyes almost wistful. “I heal enough. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Lydia let out a held breath, her eyes watering up. “Yeah, but  _barely_. Stiles, this- you- this is so terrible…”

His eyebrows creased at her worry, a soft spot deep in his heart aching at the fact that Lydia was more troubled at his pain than by the fact he appeared to have just finished eating something raw. “I heal, Lydia. I’m fine-“

"No, you are anything but FINE, Stiles!" It was hard to tell whether Lydia was about to break down or if she was furious. He reckoned it was a mixture of both. "Scott and Isaac and Derek and Malia, they all heal, while you - you have scars, you still have scars from the trap." She practically punched him when she planted her palm against the jagged lines on his abdomen. She sucked a breath in sharply as she tried to keep herself composed, but her efforts were useless as the tears broke down her face.

Stiles looked at her, speechless, as he saw the realization click in her mind, her lips trembling as the sobs tried to escape her. The fear in her eyes caused his vision to blur, his jaw setting tighter as his lungs burned. Lydia placed her hand over the deepest deformity where the Argent arrow nearly pierced his heart, and Stiles could feel herself shaking even as she pressed firmly against him.

"You- you could have  _died!_  You should have- you  _almost_ \- I almost  _lost_  you!” 

Stiles saw the exact moment where she completely fell apart, when she understood how close she was to losing the closest person to her after Allison. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in as she sobbed against his chest, curving her arms around his shoulder blades. He hesitated a moment due to his bloodied hands, but tightened his grip around her nonetheless.

"I’m here…" He choked the words out softly. "I’m right here…"

His eyes overflowed as he stared hollowly at the ground.

 

 


	22. Contract

Stiles never thought he would be pleased to see Garret naked.

But it meant something was finally going right.

“Thank god! You’re-” Stiles flustered at the sight of Garret crouched on the ground, breathing heavily from the transformation. “You should- I’m going to go get you some pants.”

Once Garret was clothed, he remained on the ground, leaning up against a wall of Derek’s loft. He stared at his hands, limp in his lap, as if he thought he would never see them again.

“So how’d you do it?” Stiles inquired, sitting on the ground across from him. “I know you didn’t do it by eating something raw like I did-”

“I thought of Violet.” Even though Garret cut Stiles off, his voice was weak and broken, his eyes reflecting such misery.

Stiles was quiet a moment, his gaze finding contact with the ground. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save her.”

“It’s alright. There’s nothing you could have done.” His words rang bitter.

“Maybe there’s something we  _should_  have done-”

“No. Violet is dead because of a psychotic werejaguar. Anything you or Scott could have done wouldn’t have made much difference. Reward money or not, I still plan on killing Kate Argent. In fact, what exactly am I supposed to do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t go back to school. I’m a wanted criminal.”

“You kind of brought that upon yourself.” Stiles scoffed but covered up the noise with a fake cough. “I could always say it wasn’t you and I mistook my attacker for someone else-”

“Too many lacrosse players saw me chasing after you. Violet was arrested and everyone knew we had a connection. There’s no way you can weasel me out of this one.”

“I may not be able to weasel you out but I’m getting fairly good at outfoxing others.” Stiles laughed and then huffed in frustration. “I suppose you return to your ways of surviving on your own. With the additional stress of not getting killed. Or captured by Argents.”

Garret sighed, clenching his hands into fists. “And getting used to being a  _fox_.”

“It’s rough, huh?”

“How do you control the…you know…the fox parts?”

“The ears?”

“Well, and the arms…and tail…”

Stiles shrugged. “I haven’t exactly figured it out yet myself. Sometimes I can control it, sometimes I can’t.” He curiously held out his arm towards Garret, as if reaching to grasp some unseen force. He remained still for a moment while nothing happened, then the darkness spread from his fingers like ink, turning his entire forearm black as night. Receding his arm back towards his chest, he looked at his hand as the darkness slowly faded from his skin. “We’re supposed to be masters of illusions. I just…imagine my arms returning back to normal and then they do.” He raised his eyes up to Garret. “Obviously in situations where I can’t concentrate or there’s more pressing matters at hand, the fox parts show.”

“Do your ears or tail ever come out without you realizing?”

“Sometimes.” Stiles reluctantly answered. “Sometimes when…when your emotions get the better of you.”

“Such as?”

Stiles could feel the heat in his cheeks. “… _ssssstrong_  emotions?”

“As in?”

 _This kid can’t take a hint to lay off._  “Umm. Like, I don’t know. When you don’t have control of your emotions, and they’re just- overwhelming-”

“Well, that answers my question.”

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”

“It wasn’t sarcasm. Your ears are out.” Garret pointed at Stiles’ head with a lack of enthusiasm.

Stiles growled, his black and orange ears pinned back in annoyance. “See what I mean? You got me all flustered and I didn’t even notice they were there.”

“What were you getting flustered about anyway?” Garret tilted his head to the side. “Come on, you can tell me. I know I’m not your friend but I’m not your assassin anymore.”

Arching a brow and perking up one ear, Stiles sighed after a moment of thoughtful consideration. “I don’t have much control of these things around Lydia.”

“That much is obvious.”

Now both ears were perked forward. “What? Really?”

Garret chuckled darkly. “Glaringly. Even if you two aren’t an item, I could tell either of you would do anything for the other. Violet considered using her as bait to lure you out.”

“’Use her as  _bait_  to  _lure_  me out?’ What kind of shitty wording is that?”

“Sorry. I’m still…getting used to all this. I came from the direct opposite perspective you know.”

“Like a hunter being turned.” Stiles mused, but then his brows slowly lowered as his face hardened. “He couldn’t get used to it so it completely overcame him…”

“What?”

Stiles snapped his attention back to Garret. “Marissa Argent’s husband was turned. Apparently it completely changed him, turned him into a monster. This is all merely speculation…but from what she said that’s the story I gathered. I’m guessing….I’m guessing she killed her own husband in the end.”

“What was he turned into?”

“A werefox.” Stiles answered soberly. “To Marissa Argent, we’re the same monsters that changed the one she loved most, to the point where she had to kill him.”

“…that’s problematic.”

“Tell me about it.”

 

>>>><<<<

 

“I still don’t understand why we’re taking a test when we all have a bounty on our heads.” Isaac muttered from his leaning position against the lockers.

“Just because there’s a dead pool doesn’t mean we can just ignore everything else in our lives.” Scott answered. 

“I think that’s a very good reason to ignore certain things.” Malia interjected, her expression anxious, as if a murderer could jump out at any given moment. “Like school. One of the teachers could try to kill us. We’re worth more than the money they make here.”

Stiles scoffed. “No one’s going to kill us at the school.”

“Remember how many times we’ve nearly died at the school?” Scott softly reminded him.

Stiles frowned. “Oh yeah. That’s usually my line.”

“We should still be able to survive a few hours, right?” Kira asked, her expression uncertain. “No one would try to kill us around so many people.”

“You’d be surprised.” Isaac gave her a wry smile. “You clearly haven’t been in Beacon Hills very long.”

 

>>>><<<<

 

Stiles felt like his head was swimming. He made sure to go to bed early and eat a well balanced breakfast, but he felt like he just jumped out of a speeding vehicle and ran from mercenaries with no sleep and an empty stomach. He reckoned it was the stress of the dead pool getting to him, but maybe it was the ghostly appearances of his veins darkening every so often as he filled in circle after circle.  _A B B C A A E D B D B A E C…._

Then the voices started slamming into his mind.

_…which of the following most strongly supports the implication?  
_

_I remember studying this!! What is a connotation?!_

_(A) an unspecified general audience, (B) a friend of the speaker’s beloved, © a lover, (D) a former lover, (E) a legal adviser…_

_I just filled in seven Ds in a row, one of these has to be wrong…._

Stiles blinked several times, realizing the voices were the thoughts of people around him. He was listening to thoughts during a standardized test.

Talk about cheating.

The problem was there were so many voices at once coming from so many different directions and volumes that it felt more like a sledgehammer than a useful stream of information. Most of the thoughts were reading the problems or internally panicking anyways. Stiles was about to send a message to Scott telepathically when a student falling out of her desk interrupted the classroom.

 

>>>><<<<

 

“Lydia’s mom called the CDC. I wonder if this is serious.” Scott said as they anxiously waited within the classroom.

“Well, my dad’s here.” Stiles muttered.

“You can hear that far?” Isaac asked.

“Well, I would be able to better hear if…you know. And if everyone would stop thinking already.”

“You’ve never had a problem with this before.” Scott said with creased brows. “Are you _trying_  to hear other peoples’ thoughts?”

“Of course not! They just…all came at once.” He floundered. “I-I don’t know how to make it stop and it’s driving me mad.” His eyes shifted, his body suddenly stilling before returning his gaze to meet Scott, his voice soft yet urgent. “Scott, clench your hands into fists.”

Scott gave him a look before doing so, then the realization hit him when he felt his claws against his palm. “Isaac, Malia, you too.”

Malia looked down at her hands before quickly hiding them behind her back. “Oh god, I still don’t have any control.”

“I don’t think it has to do with control.” Kira stated. “Scott and Isaac are having problems too, and it seems Stiles is as well.” She paused, moving her eyes between the group. “What if it’s whatever outbreak is going on?”

“The sickness?” Stiles stuck his neck out in disbelief. “From what they’re saying out there it doesn’t sound life threatening.”

“Maybe to humans.” Isaac pointed out, his arms folded to conceal his hands. “We don’t exactly fall under that category.”

Kira nodded. “What could be harmless to them could be deadly to us.”

“Either way, we need to get out of this classroom.” Scott huffed, his jaw clenched tight as he tried to resist transforming any further. “It’s getting worse.”

“Alright…” Stiles looked around the room as he formulated a plan. “Kira, you’re going to distract the teacher by talking to him while Scott, Isaac, and Malia sneak out, and then I’ll do something so that you and I can sneak out.”

“What should I talk to him about? I don’t even know him.”

“Make something up. Act panicked about not finishing the SAT, about how it’s going to ruin your college applications or something.”

“What are you going to do as a distraction?”

Stiles let out a troubled sigh. “Hopefully something harmless.”

 

>>>><<<<

 

“Setting the classroom on fire wasn’t the distraction I had in mind.” Kira huffed as they ran down the hallway.

“It wasn’t the distraction I had in mind either.” Stiles muttered.

“You don’t have control either, do you?” She glanced at him worriedly.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his voice coming out bitter. “No. I have next to no control over anything right now.”

Kira was about to recall how bad that was considering how much damage Stiles could cause, but she closed her mouth, figuring he was well aware of the situation. Although his arms were covered by his sleeves, she could see his hands were already jet black.

“Do you think you’re going to involuntarily shift?”

Stiles looked like she interrupted his thoughts. “Huh? No…I- well, it’s weird. It’s like my inner fox is being blocked off, and my abilities are going haywire. Which makes sense, because if this disease is supposed to kill us, it’s easier to kill me when I’m not a fox.”

“Going haywire?” Kira asked nervously. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that it feels like I have to constantly concentrate on  _preventing_  everything from falling apart.” Stiles clenched his jaw. “I’m a time bomb right now. If I lose it even for a second….” He shook his head. “I’ve no idea what could happen.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about transforming, right?”

“Making sure everything doesn’t explode isn’t a great alternative.”

 

>>>><<<<

 

“It’s getting worse.” Kira said, the five of them now in the Hale vault. Scott, Isaac, and Malia had trouble resisting the shift as black blood leaked from their mouths and nails. 

“It’s only…” Scott growled. “A matter of time…before we start tearing each other apart.” He looked at Stiles and Kira apologetically with clenched fangs. “You two need to leave, get Deaton, or Derek…”

“You realize this isn’t just a sickness, right?” Stiles asked. “Whatever this is, it’s been weaponized to affect us and effectively kill us. This is the work of another assassin.”

“Which gives you more reason to hurry the hell up!” Isaac groaned.

“I just don’t like the idea of leaving you guys when there’s an assassin in the school.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t let him get away that easily.” Malia growled, her eyes flashing blue.

“Stiles, Kira, please…” Scott huffed between ragged breaths. “Go before we hurt you…”

Stiles nodded reluctantly and pulled Kira along with him outside of the vault. He turned to face her, his voice low. “You need to find a phone in a classroom and call Lydia. She’ll know what to do, and she’ll have more means than us as to getting it done.”

“Where are you going?” Kira asked.

“I have to confirm something. Meet me back here, and if I’m not back in ten minutes, call Garret. He’s at the clinic.”

Kira nodded. “Be careful.”

Stiles ran up to Coach’s office, knowing there would be a lead there to identifying the assassin. Coach was the only adult Stiles observed having caught the sickness, and there were plenty of other adults around, completely unaffected.

As he sifted through some papers, he stopped, slowly lifting his hand to see a black smudge against the white of a document. Looking at his hands to confirm his fear, he realized he was leaking the same black blood as Scott, Isaac, and Malia. He felt it seeping through his pores, the chaos manifesting itself in his very blood as it dripped from his hands and forearms. He felt the nausea rise in his throat as his vision began to blur, the floor beneath him starting to sway.

“I was wondering how that idiot got sick.” Stiles jumped at the voice to see it was the teacher supervising the SAT, causally securing a silencer on the pistol in his hands. “I’m also wondering where your friends are. Since in order to get paid by the benefactor, I need to have proof they’re dead.”

“Visual confirmation.” Stiles answered simply as if he weren’t talking to an assassin.

“Exactly.”

“How the hell did you figure out a disease that kills foxes?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head. “I know a whole family of hunters would kill to have that kind of information.”

Simon chuckled. “Your kind is especially persistent. You’re dying because you have two different strains of virus.”

“Two different viruses?” Stiles could feel the sweat against his neck, his hands starting to shake at the realization that he was dying.

“One specially designed for you, to prevent any transformation. Then, with that ability blocked, you still catch the virus of your friends, which warrants forced transformation.”

“A conflict of interests.”

“Essentially causing your fox to kill you from its cage inside.” He aimed his pistol at Stiles, motioning him to leave the office. Stiles obeyed under the barrel of the gun as Simon continued. “I could easily shoot you since you can’t control yourself at this point, but the sickness will do that work for me. And I need you to show me where your friends are.”

“And what happens when I refuse?”

“You and your friends will still die, but so will a particular redhead.”

Stiles stiffened, turning around to face the chemist aiming a gun at his head. He wasn’t expecting his voice to shake so hard. “You have Lydia?”

Garret’s words came back into his mind with a brutal ferocity.  _Even if you two aren’t an item, I could tell either of you would do anything for the other. Violet considered using her as bait to lure you out._

“No.” Simon almost said it kindly, and Stiles relaxed for a brief moment before tensing up again. “The Argents have her.”

“Marissa Argent?” Stiles could feel the breath hitching in his throat. He was suffocating, the image of Lydia being tortured, or her lifeless gaze and limp body, threatened to break his lungs. His vision started to blacken around the edges, his hands bleeding more liberally.

“Let me offer you a proposition.” Simon said as he unlatched the safety of the pistol. “I will give you the antidote  _and_  the location of where the Argents are holding her, in exchange for the location of your friends.”

Stiles couldn’t deny it was tempting as hell. Malia had the confidence that they could tear the assassin apart before he could kill them. Lydia was rendered helpless and the Argents would likely continue to torture her till Stiles showed up. But how capable were Scott, Isaac, and Malia? Could he really sell out his friends for the life of the woman he loved?

As things stood, they were all going to die. Yet it seemed no matter what Stiles chose, he only sped up that process.

“You better hurry and make a decision.” Simon remarked. “Soon the sickness will render you blind and you won’t be able to lead me to your friends. Then you will be useless to me, and the redhead will be useless to the Argents.”

“Ok, ok!” Stiles threw up his hands, his heart pounding as he tried to think of a million ways to get around this. “You give me the antidote first, then I will lead you to my friends, then you will tell me where Lydia is.”

Simon’s smirk was almost smug. “No, that’s not going to work. If I give you the antidote first you’ll be able to kill me. You will show me where your friends are first, and that’s the only way this is going to happen.”

“Well then what if I tell you your proposition is lame and I refuse it?”

The chemist looked away momentarily in disbelief before training his eyes back on Stiles. He released a sigh as he straightened his arm holding the gun. “Then I’m going to get myself at least one confirmation.”

Stiles shut his eyes as he concentrated as hard as he could, drawing the chaos in his arms to fuel his mind. He knew the chemist was about to pull the trigger, but oddly enough, despite his knowledge of nearing the last seconds of his life, the chemist and the gun, and the bullet that would soon penetrate his skull didn’t seem to matter, because only one depressingly sober thought wracked his mind.

Lydia.

Thunder rang in his ears and a warmth covered his face, adrenaline and shock jostling his body, his lungs convulsing with heavy breathing. Stiles opened his eyes to find the chemist falling down onto his back, lifeless. A gaping hole blossomed from his forehead, a mess of blood decorating the ground beneath him. Stiles looked down to find crimson sprayed upon his shirt, and idly lifted a hand to wipe some of the hot liquid from his face and confirm the crimson on his black fingers was indeed blood.

“Oh god…” He breathed, realizing from the destroyed pistol that he just murdered the chemist. Not by any explanations that would prove him guilty, but he knew it was still his doing.

_Or my undoing._

He could feel his vision fading, his bones failing. He fell to his hands and knees, watching the corpse turn into three, his hands blur into a black abyss. He screamed from the nauseating pain, before falling into complete darkness.

 

>>>><<<<

 

“Stiles  _what?_ ” Garret asked incredulously over the phone.

“Stiles was supposed to meet me back here and he hasn’t, and I think he went to find the assassin, and I think he might be in major trouble.” Kira spilled out in a string of anxiety. “The sickness is getting worse…I’m having trouble seeing.”

Deaton spoke over the speakerphone. “Is it blurring your vision or darkening it?”

“Both.” Kira made a face. “I think. I feel like I’m looking at things underwater. Sometimes it blacks out completely, but then it comes back.”

“The virus will probably cause you to go blind.” Deaton explained. “Do not panic if it does. The panic will only speed up the harm of the illness.”

“Ok. What about Stiles?”

“I’ll come to the school.” Garret announced.

“Garret, you’re still a wanted criminal.” Kira whispered into the phone, pausing a moment to catch her breath. “There are tons of police outside. How exactly are you going to even get inside?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Deaton cut in, “The illness may still affect you and make you a liability instead of an aid in the situation.”

“I’ll figure something out!” Kira could hear the door slam a moment later. Deaton then spoke again, his voice unnaturally calm.

“Hold tight, Kira, I’ll work as fast as I can to figure a remedy.”

Kira nodded, but then realized Deaton wouldn’t be able to see the movement. “Okay. Do you know where Lydia is?”

“…No, I don’t. Why?”

“Because I’ve tried calling her five times and she hasn’t answered.”

 

>>>><<<<

 

_So much chaos and you’re not even awake to relish it…._

Stiles slowly regained consciousness to hear a voice that made his stomach churn. He coughed up thick tendrils of black blood, the same darkness continuing to leak from his hands. It were as if he absorbed the choas only to have his body reject the supernatural energy….

“It’s an allergy…”

Stiles pulled himself up into a sitting position as he inspected his hands. “He weaponized the virus to make me allergic to the very thing I feed of off….”

Void sighed.  _About time you figured it out._

Stiles whipped his head around to try and glare at the demon fox, but saw no sign of his obsidian figure. Simon remained motionless on the concrete floor, crimson pooling around his head. Although the body didn’t bother him in the slightest, the reminder that he killed the chemist haunted his subconscious. “Are you going to explain things or just sit there and taunt me?”

 _I can certainly do both._ Void quipped a laugh before continuing, his voice smooth with a chilling precision that cut through the air.  _You’re going to eventually bleed out and die. A portion of that black blood is your own. You need to either starve the illness by removing yourself from any chaos, or you need to fight the illness by introducing something stronger into your bloodstream._

Stiles arched a brow at no one. “Such as?”

In the silence that stretched, Stiles swore he could feel the nogitsune’s jaws curl into a grin. He could feel that excitement burning around him.

_A thousand year old trickster spirit ought to work._

“There’s no way in hell I’m allowing you to posses me again.” He growled bitterly. 

_Whoever said anything about possession?_

“Then what are you suggesting?”

_Just relax, it’ll be amusing._

“NO!” Stiles stood up, ready to fight if the fox decided to show himself. “What makes you think I’ll trust you so easily?! Did you forget about all the torture you put me through? What about the-  _why_  are you  _laughing?!!_ ”

 _Ah, sorry._  Void said as he recovered, catching his breath.  _The irony is just too good. You say it was awful, that I tortured you, and yet you liked it. You liked every minute of it._

“Let’s get one thing straight - I liked feeling  _powerful._  That’s it!”

_Mmm, how long do you think you can sell that lie with conviction? It wasn’t just the power you craved….it was the KILLING!_

“No….No I am not - a  _murderer!_ ” Stiles breathed heavily, running his bloodied hands through his hair as he stared at the corpse of the chemist.

Void manifested himself, standing directly behind the pool of crimson, his hollow white eyes staring at the lifeless body.  _What if I told you I knew where the Argents are keeping Lydia?_

Stiles looked down at the fox with widened eyes, a mixture of horror and rage clouding his amber hues. His voice was barely above a whisper, his arms slowly retreating to his sides as his fingers shook. “What did you say?”

Void looked up at Stiles and parted his black jaws to reveal white fangs as he spoke. _I know where to find Lydia. And I can help you save her._


	23. Animus Nocendi

_Stiles…there is only one way to save her…_

“I can’t - I can’t -” His breathing came in heavy as he sunk to his knees, his gasps quick and shallow. “I can’t see -  _I can’t see anything!!_ ”

_Calm down, will it away with your mind._

“I CAN’T!!” Stiles stared off at nothing in particular, his gaze troubled. “I can’t even transform! I’m useless - I’m - I’m dying!”

_Not exactly._

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Void paused a moment, letting out a small sigh.  _So long as you’re near me, you won’t die._

Stiles furrowed his brows in confusion. “How - does that work?”

_Embodiment of chaos, remember? And that’s what you feed of off. What I am to you is what a billion watts are to your thunder kitsune friend._

“So you’re a storehouse of energy?”

_Of chaos. Yes._

“Then why is the sickness still making me blind?!”

_Because you are a pathetic weakling who has no control of his abilities._

“Ouch.”

_Now let’s hurry up and get this over with. I’ll show you what to do._

“No! I can - I can figure it out myself.”

_You’ll die if you go out there. And you don’t know where Lydia is._

“Not if you’re with me.”

_If you’re going to play the game, you’re going to have to play by my rules. It’s the only way you can win…_

 

 

>>>><<<<

 

 

Garret ran as fast as his paws could take him, the speed surprising even himself. He thought of a couple dozen methods of breaking into the school without anyone noticing, and realized it would be near impossible since he had no idea how to use any telekinesis. 

_Probably should have asked Stiles about that one._

He assumed he could figure it out once he got to that point, since Stiles explained he just imagined things happening and then they happened. It didn’t sound too difficult. 

Garret stopped in his tracks, the school not far off, but heard something running through the forest. He altered his course to follow the sound, realizing within a hundred yards it was Stiles.

But at the same time it  _wasn’t_  Stiles.

Kicking in for a burst of speed, Garret rushed up to him, following alongside as he spoke telepathically. 

_Where the hell are you going?_

“Why the hell are you following me?”

_I came to help! I thought you were dying of some disease. What about your friends? Are you just abandoning them?!_

Stiles growled. “I have to save Lydia first!!”

_Lydia?_

“The Argents have her, and I killed the one person who could contact them and pull the order to kill her!”

_You killed someone?!_

“Don’t act so appalled.” Stiles scoffed. “I have to save her first…and I might still be too late. Deaton will be able to help my friends.”

_Stiles - what if this is a trap? Remember what I said about-_

“I remember exactly what you said!” Stiles snarled. “It doesn’t matter though! They won’t be prepared for what’s coming, especially if you come with me.”

_Stiles, you’re dying, you’re bleeding out and you don’t-_

“I’m fully aware of that!! I don’t have - my options here are limited!”

_So you chose the most reckless and dangerous option possible._

“Naturally.”

 

 

>>>><<<<

 

 

“Scott! Open the door!!” Kira yelled as she pounded her fists against the solid wall, her vision failing as black blood continued to leak from her mouth. “The cure is in there with you! It’s a jar of…of mushrooms!” 

Scott groaned in pain, lying on the ground as the sickness continued to tighten its grasp. Malia and Isaac were slowly dying out on the cold concrete as well, their strained breathing mixed in with weak growls echoing in the damp space. Scott tried sitting up, then made the strenuous effort to crawl towards the vault door. He heard Kira yelling something, but his hearing was steadily failing like his vision. 

“Scott….it’s in there with you….” Kira said weakly on the ground outside, silent tears falling down her face.

 

 

>>>><<<<

 

 

Deep inside, Stiles was terrified. 

He had no idea what level of harm Void was capable of unleashing upon himself or Lydia. The way his options were presented though, this was the only chance of saving Lydia. Without Void, Stiles had a slim chance of finding Lydia, and an even slimmer chance of then saving her. With Void, at least Stiles had a fifty percent chance of finding Lydia, and then a fifty percent chance of saving her. It all depended on whether or not Void would stay true to his word.

 _Of course it would be Eichen House._  Stiles mused to the dark fox spirit in his mind as he and Garret continued their sprint through the forest.

_Well where else would an Argent be able to get away with torturing a supernatural?_

_I’m so blind for not thinking of that before! It makes sense! If I just used my head, I wouldn’t need you-_

_Don’t flatter yourself. You’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for me._

A heaviness burdened the cavity of Stiles’ chest as he thought about his friends. He wondered with a cold dread if that meant the sickness had killed them all by now. He wondered if Lydia was screaming as Scott’s eyes closed for the last time…

 _Stop fretting, your friends are fine._  Void cut into his thoughts like fire.

If Stiles could think exclamation marks and question marks, he would have in that moment.  _How the hell do you-_

 _If your friends were dead, you would have heard Lydia scream. Rather, you would have felt it._ Void said matter of fact. _Oh, oh, you mean how I knew what you were just thinking about, I presume? I know_ all  _your thoughts, Stiles. When you allow me entrance into your vessel, you’re not only giving me access to your body._

If Stiles was scared a moment ago, he was downright terrified now. He stopped in his tracks, causing Garret to halt and turn around with perked ears. 

 _Stiles - what’s the matter?_ He asked.  _We have to hurry._

“I just…I…give me a second.” He wheezed.

 _You honestly aren’t tired from_ running, _are you?_  If foxes could deadpan, Garret was doing it quite well with his cold eyes.  _This supernatural thing makes it near impossible to run out of energy. At least, it does for me._

“It’s not that….it’s…” Stiles shook his head, swallowing hard. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

As they approached Eichen House, Void directed Stiles towards a secret entrance that lead directly to the basement, the jail for supernaturals. When they reached the metal cellar door, Stiles and Garret were surprised to see evidence of breaking and entering.

 _Someone was here first._  Garret said.

The heavy-duty doors were ripped clean off their handles, claw marks slicing through the metal as if they were butter. A stench filled the chasm below, and Stiles stiffed in recognition.

“Berserkers.” 

_Ber-what?_

“Translation, prepare yourself for trouble.” Stiles moaned. “Brute strength doesn’t work against these guys…hopefully a little mental strength will…”  _Void, know anything about berserkers that you’d care to enlighten me with?_

_What’s the fun in giving you the answers to everything? What next, you going to ask me dating advise?_

The internal groan in Stiles’ mind translated to an audible growl, causing Garret’s head to turn to look at him. 

_What?_

“Uhh, nothing.” Stiles shook his head.  _You suck, Void.  
_

The fox spirit chuckled.  _That’s kind of the definition of void._

“Oh shut up.”

Garret’s ears pinned back.  _I didn’t say anything. Or telepathically say anything._

“Not you, ummm…”

_‘Not you?’ Then who the hell are you talking to?_

“Uhh, myself.” Stiles lowered his brows. “Obviously. Let’s just hurry up and willingly enter this corridor of death.”

 _Fine by me._  Garret rolled his eyes before leading the way down the stairs.

They were interrupted on the seventh step when a piercing scream reverberated through the darkness below.

“Lydia!!”

When Stiles ran into the darkness, opening doors and gates with his mind, he slammed into a wall, falling hard on his back. When he pulled himself up, he saw nothing preventing him from crossing into the room where the fighting ensued. Stiles saw through the chaos of Argents and berserkers, a frightened Lydia pressing herself against the back wall. She was covered in blood, her eyes horrified.

“Why can’t I cross?!” Stiles examined the opening to see if there was something he was missing. 

Garret rammed into the invisible wall with a whine before looking at Stiles. _It’s not mountain ash…but why can’t we get through?_

 _Look with your eyes, dimwit._ Void chided Stiles.

Stiles opened his eyes, now glowing teal, to see the flaming gate that stood in front of him. It looked like a arbor crackling with red electricity, amber flames spiraling around its form. “What is it?”

 _It’s a Torii._ Void answered.

_A What?_

_It’s a gate to keep out yako._

_Yako?_

_That’s what you are. It means field foxes - or werefoxes and nogitsune. We can’t cross. Unless…._

_Unless what?_

_Get your banshee to scream again._

Stiles was troubled by the fact his kind was grouped together with the likes of Void, but he was more troubled that he was helpless to save Lydia. And now Void wanted to use her to meet his own ends.

 _That’s Kate Argent isn’t it?_ Garret said behind clenched teeth.

Stiles saw the werejaguar fighting Marissa Argent, but before he could respond, Lydia screamed. It wasn’t just a scream of fear, it was a scream predicting certain death. As the sound reverberated, Stiles felt a surge of warmth spread through his veins. 

 _Cross the barrier now!_ Void commanded.

Stiles looked at Garret to see his eyes were glowing as well. “We gotta pass now!” Stiles ran under the gate, wincing at a burning sensation across his skin, but otherwise passing through. Garret did the same, but before Stiles could say anything, the fox was already charging at Kate.

“Garret!”

 _Leave him be._  Void said.  _Hurry up and use this power before it dies out._

_How?_

_Cause some chaos._

When a berserker headed towards him, Stiles responded,  _Shouldn’t be too hard._

The berserker was huge, and Stiles couldn’t control the use of his claws. The poison was still affecting him, his hands and arms still bleeding black. He pulled the nearest objects with his mind, slamming a chair and fire extinguisher into the berserker, but the creature seemed unphased as it continued towards Stiles, lifting a clawed hand to strike. Stiles kicked the creature hard in the stomach, which threw the berserker off course. Instead of slicing through Stiles’ chest, the claws came down hard through his leg. 

Screaming in pain, Stiles grasped his bleeding thigh, noticing his black claws were now out. He could feel his fangs fully elongated, and he wondered how much longer he would last till he fully transformed.

 _Pain makes you want to shift._ Void commented.

_I noticed. Any tips on how to beat these guys?_

_Use your head. Clearly physical strength will not help you here._

Stiles dodged the next attack, moving quickly around the berserker as he thought of his method of offense. He felt completely drained of energy, but he had to keep fighting or the berserker’s claws would take off his face. A high pitched scream caused Stiles to whip his head just in time to see Kate rip out Marissa’s throat, a stream of blood flying through the air. Lydia’s scream gave Stiles another surge of power, his eyes glowing fiercely in response. He turned to face the berserker right before its claws came down on him again. With a yell and thrust of his arm, Stiles willed the berserker’s skull to break, obliterating the creature in an explosion of light and dust.

“Marissa!!”

“Stiles!”

The few remaining hunters fired bullets at Kate, and Lydia was dangerously close to their line of fire. Stiles ran into the battlefront, slicing his claws through an Argent as he shoved him aside, willing any and all bullets to stop before they reached Lydia, but before he could extend his arm to her, Kate tackled him to the floor. 

“Stilinski!” She growled as her clawed hands dug into his shoulders, pinning him to the ground. “That torii should have worked! It should have kept you outside and helpless to save the one you love. I’m going to give you a taste of your own medicine! Because you’re the one - YOU’RE THE REASON ALLISON IS GONE!”

Stiles half groaned, half growled in response, digging his own claws into her arms. “I NEVER MEANT FOR HER TO DIE!”

“Your eyes suggest otherwise,  _fox_.” Kate parted her jaws to strike, only to be interrupted by a metal operating table slamming into her side, fully knocking her away from Stiles.

Garret snarled, then spoke to Kate telepathically.  _You killed Violet. You’re going to pay for that!!_  He launched himself at her with a howl, digging his fangs into her neck as she screamed.

Stiles looked up at Lydia, her hazel eyes terrified. He bolted to her side, wincing at the pain in his leg. He held her face with his hands, careful not to have his claws hurt her in any way. “Lydia, are you okay?”

“We’ll discuss that later.” She breathed, blood spilling from her mouth. “I need some assistance first.” She lifted an arm to reveal handcuffs securing her to a cabinet handle. Stiles nodded then stared at the handcuff a moment before it snapped open. He helped Lydia onto her feet, and looked for a way to escape.

There was blood and bodies everywhere.

Garret released a strangled yowl of pain as Kate tore her claws through his body, then fixed her emerald gaze on the only ones left standing as her two remaining berserkers finished tearing apart the last Argent, his screams of agony sending shivers.

Stiles suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening as his hands lifted towards his face. His arms were trembling, his breathing quickening. “No, not now!”

“Stiles? What’s wrong?”

 _You can never trust a fox…_ Void’s voice echoed through Stiles and Lydia’s minds. 

Stiles yelled in pain as his right hand dug into the gashes on his thigh, his own claws curling through a warm mess of crimson. Lydia gasped in horror as she realized what was happening. “Stiles! Stop! Fight it!”

Behind clenched teeth, Stiles responded, “I- I can’t!!”

Absorbing his own pain and strife, Void finally had the means necessary to take over Stiles. His head fell back as an aura masked his body, shaped as a fox like Kira’s, but black in color, the aura burning like dark smoke. His eyes turned teal as a malicious grin formed from his lips.

“Stiles never meant for Allison to die… _but I did_.”

Void moved with impressive speed, killed the lights with a blast of electricity, then proceeded to fight against Kate and her berserkers. Lydia scrambled in the dark to the nearest dead body and grabbed a pistol, aiming it at the darkness with trembling arms. She occasionally saw a flash of teal or green, from Stiles or Kate’s eyes, and heard plenty of screams and growls. 

Then she heard a completely different animal noise and saw a set of blue eyes, the lights flickering back on to reveal a massive black wolf charging at Kate. She screamed as the wolf tore at her flesh with its jaws, but Lydia was focused on something else.

Void was staring at her as he materialized a katana in his hand.

“I don’t want to shoot you, you’re still Stiles.” Lydia whispered in fear as she aimed the gun at his head.

“ _How can you be so sure, Lydia?_ ” Void spoke to her physically and telepathically simultaneously. “ _How do you even know Stiles is still alive? I could have killed him for all you know. Crush his pathetic soul from his inferior body! I can take him over and consume him till he and I are one and the same. And there’s nothing you can do about it._ ”

Lydia closed her eyes as she adjusted her aim slightly and pulled the trigger, but when she opened her eyes, Void was unscathed with an unimpressed expression.

“You really tried to shoot someone who can move objects with their mind? That’s awfully brave…but also…you know. Stupid.” Void took a step closer and sliced the pistol away with the silver katana, then pressed the tip beneath Lydia’s chin, forcing her to rise to her feet. 

“I tried to stop a demonic fox from possessing the person I love.” Lydia said defiantly, her eyes watering as she realized the extent of her confession.

“You love Stiles?” Void smiled as he licked his fangs. “Enlighten me…” He advanced so fast he pressed her up against the wall, digging his claws through her wrist, allowing her blood to liberally spill. “ _Do you love him still?_ ” 

Lydia gasped at the sheer pain igniting her arm, her breaths coming in short as she was defenseless against the nogitsune. He pressed his free hand into her side, up underneath her rib cage and into her lungs as she screamed, the sound distorted from all the blood pooling from her mouth. Void removed his hands from her flesh, then carefully held her hands. 

Everything melted away to reveal the Stiles she knew, no fox aura, no blood, no fangs or blackness on his arms, those same warm golden brown eyes she loved. They were no longer at Eichen House, but in the middle of a peaceful forest, the light warm and the air crisp. The pain was gone, and the two of them were whole and safe and alone together. For a moment it seemed to work as Lydia stilled and held her breath.

“You love me Lydia?”

The voice sounded like Stiles, the body looked like Stiles. It could have been the real Stiles reaching out to her, fighting against Void. But it could also be an illusion, a trick. Lydia’s heart pounded as she stared at him in awe. 

“I do…” She said weakly, her eyes carefully watching his response. A soft smile slowly appeared on his lips as he let out a small laugh of relief.

“All these years…all these years I’ve loved you, and wondered… I worried you could never love me back. I mean, how - how on earth could a guy like me deserve such perfection?” He shook his head and smiled. “You are flawless in every possible way, but you’re not, at the same time, and I - I love you so much that I love your imperfections. I fell in love with you because…because you were perfect, but then I saw that you weren’t perfect, and I - I loved you even more.”

“Stiles…”

“Lydia, do you love me even though I’m a monster?”

She was quiet a moment as she blinked away the tears to clear her vision. “Stiles…we may be monsters, we may be the nightmares parents tell their children about at night…but not all monsters do monstrous things. You may be a monster, but by your actions and your feelings towards those you care about, you… you are anything but a monster.”

“Oh Lydia…” Stiles smiled as bittersweet tears fell from his face. “You only know the half of it…”

“No I know the entirety of it.” Lydia said firmly. “I know you have a thirst for danger and death and chaos, you crave it like a drug. I know you have a shady moral compass and you’re not afraid to do anything for the right reason. It’s no wonder Void latched on to you, because you have a dark side he’s particularly attracted to. And the truth of it is…I kind of am too.”

Stiles moved a hand to stroke the side of her face, his gaze tender as he pressed his lips against hers, drinking her in fondly. When he slowly pulled away, Lydia looked him over with wide eyes, her brows furrowing in confusion. 

“You’re not Stiles.”

Stiles lowered his brows, his eyes dejected. “Of course it’s me, Lydia. I fought against Void to talk to you, just like you told me to! It’s me, it’s really me.” He pulled her in for another kiss, pressing firmly in desperation to prove to her it was him. He pulled away, his expression concerned. “How could I know your favorite color is green and you like chocolate chips in your pancakes and that you love the sound of rain, unless I was Stiles?”

“No…” A tear fell down Lydia’s face. “It’s all a cruel trick. It’s not really you!”

Stiles brushed away the tear with his thumb as he delicately held her face, his eyes watering in disappointment. “I can’t even get you to believe it’s really me…Void was right.” He said tightly, his hands falling down to his sides. “After what the nogitsune put you through…” Stiles swallowed hard. “…you could  _never_  love me.”

“Stiles…”

“No, he was right!” He said bitterly, angry tears falling from his lashes. “I see the way you’ve looked at me, at Allison’s funeral, like I-I was a  _monster!_  I heard your heartbeat when I hurt you, I smelt the fear that came off you in waves!! You’re  _terrified_  of me! And there’s no way you can love something you  _fear._ ”

“No…No this is all fake!” Lydia threw her hands to cover her ears as she tightly closed her eyes. “It’s all a lie, just an illusion! None of this is real!!”

_Oh Lydia…if only you knew the reality of it all…_

The illusion disappeared as Void pressed her shoulder into the wall, licking up the blood that trailed down her neck with a moan of pleasure. Lydia let out a small cry as she tensed against his touch.

“ _I am so tired of you screaming, banshee. You should only scream when someone’s about to die. Tell me, do you scream when you know you’re about to die? When you can practically taste death on your own lips?_ ” He pulled her injured wrist to his mouth to lick the blood that seeped from her wounds. His fangs glowed white against his scarlet stained face. “ _Let’s find out._ ”

Void leaned in, craning his head into position as he clamped his fangs into her soft neck. He held that position as he felt the scream rise in her throat, the tension flowing up through her muscles as he increased the intensity of his grasp. Finally he clamped with full force, pulling away as crimson ribbons and tendrils danced through the air, splattering thickly all over Lydia and Void.

It turns out she never screamed.

Void’s feast was cut short when a katana nearly severed his head. He picked up his own blade to face the flaming kitsune with a sadistic grin, Lydia collapsing to the cold floor in a pool of blood. 

“The thunder kitsune. What a pleasure.” 

Kira faced him, katana wielded over her head as her orange fox aura blazed like fire, backed up by Scott, Malia, and Isaac, and a large black wolf. “Void, remove yourself from Stiles at once!”

“And what’s the fun in that? How about we see how long you can go without killing your friend.”

Void dashed into the fight, his sword movements fast and precise, as Kira tried her best just to keep up. When Scott tried to join the battle, Void slashed at him fluidly with ease while still keeping up with Kira. When Malia and Isaac tried to do the same, Void kept them at bay.

Bending metal handles from the cabinets in the room, Void struck them through Malia and Isaac’s wrists, the metal pinning them down to the ground as the silver fastened around their limbs. Void reveled in their screams as he moved on to the wolf in the room. All while continuing to fight against Kira, Void moved one of the Argents’ rifles into position, shooting the wolf who fell over with a strangled whine.

Kira sent a bolt of lightning from her katana towards Void, but he only smirked as the jolt passed through his body. He spun around to deliver a blow that sliced up Kira’s forearm as she fell to the ground screaming. Before Void could deliver a second blow, Scott grabbed his arm and sank his teeth into his flesh, eyes glowing red.

“That trick won’t work a second time! Stiles is a fox now, and there’s nothing you can do to change that!”

“Yeah, but this trick works!” Scott muttered with a mouth full of arm.

Kira leapt at Void, her eyes burning the same as the fire that enshrouded her, as she yelled “ _Kasai ni yoru yakubarai!_ ” Her katana passed through his chest, blood spilling from his mouth.

Eyes receding from teal to brown, Void smiled, his voice weak. “You just killed Stiles.” His eyes rolled back as the black fox aura vanished, and Stiles screamed in agonizing pain. Kira withdrew her katana as Scott let go of his friend, Stiles dropped the katana and fell to his knees as he clutched his chest screaming and sobbing.

With his remaining energy, Stiles crawled over to Lydia’s motionless body, his hands shaking through the pools of scarlet surrounding her. He touched her face in horror, his hand slowly trailing down to the gashes in her neck, the gashes caused by him.

_Please, let it work…_

The healing activated as Stiles screamed, Lydia’s eyes opening with a gasp as the trenches filled with new flesh, the blood burning away as the veins in Stiles’ arms turned red. Slowly the same injury manifested itself onto his own neck, the fang marks tearing through his flesh by an invisible force, crimson flowing like a waterfall as he choked on his own suffering.

As he bled out on the cold floor, the last thing Stiles remembered seeing was Lydia’s horrified gaze, her lips shouting words he could not hear.

 

 


	24. Mens Rea

“Wait Scott NO!” Lydia jumped to her feet to stand between him and Stiles.

“I need to heal him, he’s dying!”

“If you make him transform right now, who knows what will happen to his neck.” Lydia spilt the words out quickly as the tears fell down her crimson stained face. “If anything, you need to heal _Garrett_ so _he_ can heal Stiles. At this point, taking away pain or transforming him so he can heal faster isn’t going to save Stiles.”

“Are you saying that as Lydia, or as a banshee?” Scott asked worriedly.

“Both.” Her lips were tight, her eyes wide. “I feel lots of death in this room, and there’s not many here left standing.”

“Is Stiles even still alive?” Scott looked at the gashes in his friend’s neck and the stillness of his chest, his voice cracking.

Lydia fell to her knees and pressed her head against his chest to listen to a heartbeat, to feel something, anything that would indicate the presence of life, and she felt nothing but a barren wasteland over the thrumming of her own heart. She looked over at Scott with a fear in her eyes before she proceeded to perform CPR, pushing against his sternum as she tried to clear her mind and remain calm as she remembered the procedures. 

“Agh! Scott, help me!” Kira shouted from the other end of the room where she tried to pull out the metal holding down Isaac and Malia. 

When Scott turned around to help, he saw Braeden and Chris enter the room, both holding a pistol and rifle respectively. Braeden rushed over to the injured wolf while Chris strode over to the dead body of his cousin.

“Chris! How did you-”

“I figured out Marissa’s plan. And I knew it couldn’t end well for anyone.” He sighed sadly, his gaze troubled as he observed the claw marks running through her neck. “I knew she would get herself killed, but I never considered her death would involve Kate.” When he made his way over to Stiles and Lydia, he slung the rifle over his shoulder. “Step aside, Lydia.”

She moved away from Stiles but remained close. “What are you-”

“He’s a fox. He needs chaos.” Chris knelt and took Stiles’ black and bloody hand and held it firmly. “I just had a cousin die. It should suffice.”

Within seconds Stiles jolted to life, his back arching as he released a strangled yell with cold eyes. His breathing was rapid and hitched, his chest rising and falling with difficulty. He looked over at Lydia as he struggled to breathe.

_How- how am I…?_

“Shh, don’t think, just please….keep breathing.” Lydia assured him as she ran a hand through his hair, carefully cradling his bloody face. “Focus on breathing.”

“No, focus on healing.” Chris remarked. He opened Stiles’ hand and placed a purple flower in his palm, closing both his and Stiles fingers around it. Stiles felt ice run through his veins, the rate of his breathing increasing.

“Is that…foxglove?” Lydia asked with furrowed brows.

“The origins of its name have a more… supernatural history.” Argent explained. “It’s a natural healing remedy for foxes.”

Lydia looked down at Stiles, who looked slightly better off, but still struggled against the slippery slope into the abyss of death. She let out a brief exhale of relief. “It seems we’re going to need more of it.”

 

 

>><<

 

Warm sunlight shined into his face.

Stiles opened his eyes to see trees branching above him, cherry blossoms swaying gracefully through the wind like embers of a fire. Stiles sat up to find he was in the middle of a peaceful forest, the sound of a stream flouted in the distance. He followed the trail of blossoms to find they lead to a fox, small from being so far away. 

It was white but glowed and flared like fire. Even from this great distance, Stiles could tell the fox had blood red eyes to match the fiery crimson tip of its tail. The flower petals spun around the fox as if it were controlling them, and Stiles realized it probably was.

He stood up to head towards the fox, but when he got close enough to properly see its form, it bolted further into the woods. “Hey, wait up!” Stiles called but ran nonetheless. 

 _You will never catch me like that._ The voice in his mind was smooth and clear like water - it was a woman’s. 

 _Do you wish me to catch up with you?_ Stiles asked back.

_Only if you seek wisdom._

With that, the fox ran off faster, and Stiles felt the forest stretch wider and wider between them. He pushed off hard, digging his feet into the soft soil as he followed the white fox up stairs that led up a hill. When he reached the top, he smacked hard against an invisible wall, landing on his back with a yell. When he propped himself up, his eyes glowed to properly see the flaming torii standing between him and the fox. 

The fox sounded smug as it stared at Stiles with blood red eyes. 

_You have much to learn, yako._

 

>><<

 

“That gate is still in the way.” Scott said frantically.

“Is it a red Japanese gate on fire?” Chris asked.

Scott looked over at the Argent who carried a barely conscious Stiles. When he tried crossing it, Stiles moaned in pain and couldn’t cross. Scott arched a brow. “Yes…how do you know about that? You can’t even see it.”

“I’ve learned a few more things.” He explained. “I doubt Marissa cast this, it was probably the work of Kate. Either way, we need the blood of the one who summoned it, or…” He turned to look at Kira. “A kitsune.”

“Kate escaped…” Scott looked at the fiery torii and then to Kira. “Which means we need Kira to remove it otherwise Stiles is stuck in here. Garrett too.”

“What is it I need to do, exactly?” Kira asked Chris hesitantly.

“I’m not certain. All I know is the torii can only be summoned and removed through a blood offering or a kitsune.”

“Maybe it’s the same as it is for Stiles.” Lydia suggested. “Kira, if you imagine removing the gate hard enough, it’ll disappear.” 

“Just…imagine it disappearing??” Kira looked worried.

“Stiles said he pictures it clearly in his mind then wills it to happen. Somehow it’s the willpower that transfers the thought from imagination to reality. You need to will the gate away, Kira.”

“Kira, you can do this.” Scott took a step closer to her, entwining his fingers with hers. “You just expelled a thousand-year-old fox spirit out of Stiles, I’m sure you can get rid of a gate.”

She smiled as she looked up at him, her dark eyes hardening in determination. “Okay.” She turned away from Scott and stared at the barrier, her eyes flaring the same amber as the fire that lapped the posts of the torii. She took a tentative step closer, reaching a hand out to the flames, their touch chilling her skin like ice. Flinching instinctively from the unexpected cold, she reached back out to place her hand on the left post.

Kira’s foxfire ignited around her, the fox eyes above her head glowing fiercely. The arms of the fox aura moved away from Kira’s body and grasped the post of the torii, causing it to vanish in a trail of smoke. The aura returned to cloak the kitsune, then slowly disappeared as well. She turned around, eyes dark once again, an uncertain smile on her lips.

“I think I removed it.”

Scott was about to say  _“I think your fox did”_ but clamped his mouth shut and nodded. Chris proceeded through the doorway to find it did not restrict Stiles from leaving. When Malia, holding Garret, followed in suit, he was able to pass as well. Braeden and Isaac helped a naked and bloody Derek out, and Lydia rushed after to catch up with Chris and Stiles. Scott looked over at Kira and held her hand, releasing a sigh of held tension as they left together

Somehow, they were all still alive.

 

>><<

 

Rushing water flooded his ears.

Stiles bolted awake to the coolness of clear water, the ripples spreading around his movements. A pale fog shrouded the area in gray, pale mists lazily rolling about. Pulling himself to his feet, Stiles walked through the shallow water and further into the fog. 

It was so deathly quiet that all he could hear was the movement of the water from his feet. He stopped to listen for any indication of noise around him; No wind, no bugs chirping or the rustling of leaves, no birds singing or trees creaking. It was as if time stood still, the whole place holding its breath in anticipation.

Stiles continued through the water to see a staircase that descended deeper into the water to a darkness below. He looked up with a sharp inhale to see the fox made of white fire, staring at him just across from the chasm. The fox held no reflection in the water which it stood.

_You can enter._

_Enter what?_ Stiles asked.

_Into the wealth of our knowledge._

_What knowledge? ‘Our’ referring to whom?_

_See for yourself._

Stiles blinked and the fox was gone, leaving him in the wake of silence. He looked at the staircase and took in a gulp of air, submerging beneath. Being a much longer decent than intended, his attempt soon became futile as he ran out of breath and had to resurface.

The white fox was there again, its blood red eyes almost disappointed. 

 _What?_ Stiles asked. _How am I supposed to go down there?_

_You keep acting as if you are only human._

_I am human._

_You are a fox._

“I am both!” Stiles shouted, breathing heavily as the realization came upon him. “I am not a fox, but I am certainly no longer human. I can’t deny either.”

_But you can not accept either._

“Yes I-” His mouth remained parted as his thought remained unfinished, his eyes widening. “No…no I can’t.”

_You’re afraid if you accept the fox you’ll become a monster._

Stiles swallowed hard. “Just like Void.”

_Use your mind, and you’ll find your answer._

Again, the fox vanished between blinks, and Stiles was left soaking wet at the top of the stairs. He looked back down at the passage and remembered he could move objects with his mind. How much harder would it be to control water?

Sure enough, the water receded out of the staircase and allowed him safe passage. Stiles walked down the steps for a while till he reached a door. With no handles or knobs, he tried pushing on its surface but it refused to budge. He willed it open with his mind, but as soon as the large brass doors swung open, the sound of rushing water echoed down the staircase. 

Apparently opening the door broke his concentration on the water.

Stiles rushed inside and slammed the doors shut behind him in time to hear the water collide against the other side.

He turned around to find a spacious room full of lit candles. In the center of the room stood an altar of sorts, a red torii standing erect at the mouth of the shrine. Atop the shrine stood a potted plant, its flowers a vibrant pinkish-purple hue. The mysterious white fox suddenly appeared, sitting behind the plant.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked as he stepped through the torii and up the steps to the shrine. He looked down at the plant for a moment before returning his gaze to the blood red eyes of the fox.

_The more appropriate question is ‘who are we?’_

Stiles stiffened at that statement, his brows lowering in suspicion. “You’re not a nogitsune are you?”

_If I was, that would mean you are one as well. Are you a nogitsune?_

“No.” He snapped a little too quickly. “No….but you called me a….’yako’…what-what does that mean? And how are we the same? Are you a werefox as well?”

 _So many questions._ The fox chided with what sounded like an amused chuckle. _It’s a shame you have no idea what you are, and your kitsune friend couldn’t shed much light either._

“Kira? Isn’t she similar to me- well, to us?” In the back of his mind, Stiles had to wonder how the fox knew about Kira. There was only one answer - she had been observing him.

_Relatively speaking._

“Can you please give me some straight answers and cut it with the obscure riddles?” Stiles asked monotonously as if he lost the will to even put frustration into his tone.

The fox snickered. _Sorry, apparently it’s a common trait among our kind._ She looked upwards, alert, as if there were a loud noise, but Stiles heard nothing but silence. She whipped her blood-red gaze to him once more. _You have much to learn, but you will discover the truth when you are ready for it._

“What? No, I’m ready to know now!” He protested.

_I’m afraid your subconscious feels differently about that matter._

 

Stiles woke with a start, the voice of the fox still ringing in his mind. The pain was brought back to his attention as he winced, hearing the soft voice of Lydia when she leaned over him.

“Shh Stiles, lie back down.” There were hints of worry in her tone, but she seemed incredibly calm given the situation. Stiles obeyed, falling back into his pillows even though he barely made any progression towards getting up. 

“Where am I? What happened? What day is it?” He rubbed his forehead with a moan. It felt like he received a concussion but he had no memory of hitting his head. Then again, that’s exactly how concussions worked.

“You’re at the Yukimuras….believe it or not.” Lydia said with a soft laugh. “Scott figured it would be best for you to be near a kitsune since Kira kind of….well, saved you from Void….”

“Kira.” He looked at her with wide eyes, remembering what the white fox told him. “I need to talk to her.” He started to get back up again but Lydia gently pushed him back down.

“Pump the brakes, Stilinski. Your neck still has a nasty gash in it -”

“That would explain why speaking hurts.”

“- and you nearly died, so you need to recover before you do anything else. You still have your fox ears out, so that’s proof you still need to rest. As soon as you can get rid of them I’ll allow you to leave this bed. Until then….” Lydia made a face.

Stiles huffed, flicking an ear in frustration. “I get it, I get it. Is everyone else ok? You’re ok, right?”

“I’m fine, you healed me, remember?” She offered him a sad smile of gratitude. “Malia, Isaac, and Derek were badly injured but they all healed incredibly fast. Garrett is still a fox, and I think that’s just because he’s still furious that Kate got away. Otherwise he’s physically fine. Marissa’s dead.”

“I noticed that.”

“And Derek can fully transform into a wolf.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Werewolves can do that?”

“Supposedly it’s only a perk for born werewolves. Scott wouldn’t be able to do it because he was turned. Malia can transform because her mother was a werecoyote. Although….maybe all coyotes can transform because they’re similar to foxes…I’m not sure on that one.”

“I’ll make a mental note to speak with Derek about all that. I’m sure he can give me some pointers for transforming.”

“You should probably talk to Garrett first, though. I’m worried that Void will try to take advantage of him right now. I’d like to think that Kira got rid of Void for good, but my instinct is telling me he’s still around.”

“We can’t get rid of him that easy.” Stiles sighed. He found Lydia’s hand and held it within his own. “We’ll figure something out. We’re going to defeat him, one way or another.”

Lydia gave a brief nod, offering a smile although her eyes were discouraged. She gave his hand a squeeze before standing up from the bed and leaving the room.


End file.
